


Expansion & Conquest

by Knave_Iespyk



Series: Lunar Cycle Series [2]
Category: Thundercats
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-30
Updated: 2010-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-11 08:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 57,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knave_Iespyk/pseuds/Knave_Iespyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow-up to Heritage.</p><p>Queen Luna is back on the throne.  Thirsting for revenge, and seeing a means of uniting her people, she plans a new journey to Third Earth to colonize and conquer the planet.  The only things standing in her way are the Thundercats and Mumm-Ra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Expansion &amp; Conquest by Jonathan Prideaux  
Chapter 1

She had been queen for many years before that fateful trip to Third Earth, the same trip that had stranded herself and five others on the miserable planet for eighty years, and yet Queen Luna found herself bored out of her mind. How was it that she now found the trappings of power to be so tedious? Had the time on Third Earth truly awakened a need in her tiny frame for excitement and adventure?

Two long months had passed since her time on that planet. Two months since her new captain of the fleet discovered evidence that they were still alive. Naturally, the Icewalkers had been focussed on Chilla's return, but they were pleased to see Luna on the throne too. At least, that's what they said when people were looking. She was an astute judge of character and sensed some resentment from some of the higher class. They were loyal, though, and would fall in line easily enough. The same could not be said for all of the other moons.

Currently, Luna sat in the spacious office in the palace behind a crescent shaped desk poring over paperwork. Her beast of burden, the Guardian known as Amok, lay curled by the fireplace, warming his body. She envied him. Things were simpler for him, all he had to do was smash things and protect Luna and he would be rewarded with candy. He didn't need to sort out food shortages and mining rights.

A rap at the door caught her attention and a timid secretary poked his head in. "Ehm, a delegation from the Psions is here to see you," he said.

There was nothing for it but to admit them, she couldn't think of a viable reason not to. Wanting to go home was not a viable reason. The door opened further and a pair of Psions entered. They were tall and lean, like most of their race, with light robes on. Luna had seen the male of the pair before, and even if she hadn't recognized the face, she would have recognized the heavy pendant that he wore around his neck. Mystan Benekasbeel, one of the high priests that governed the desert moon. Behind his expressionless face she smelled a schemer, one with ambitions for power and a heart of stone. She could almost admire him if he didn't couch his words with falsehoods.

The woman was easier to read. The golden circlet around her throat marked her as an initiate, training for higher service within the temple. She was young and wide-eyed. If she was working with Mystan, the innocense would be stripped from her in no time.

Amok raised his head from the floor and regarded the two carefully. Much like Luna, he could read people well, often falling into two categories; friend and not friend. These two, he sensed, were the latter.

"My apologies, my queen, for disturbing you, but we felt it prudent to come in person," Mystan said, bowing before her. "We are concerned because the Icewalkers are not following through on their end of a trade agreement. I realize this must seem a petty concern to you, compared to the other matters you are working on, but we desperately need those crystals."

The complaint sounded familiar, and Luna rifled quickly through the papers on her desk. There it was. The Icewalkers had sent a message complaining of something similar, that their shipment of food wasn't received. She started to say as much when Amok lurched to his feet, crossing the distance, and grabbed the two Psions gruffly. His actions spoke loudly. One of them had tried to manipulate her mind telepathically. The Guardian was in tune with Luna, and could usually sense when someone was doing such, it was one of the reasons she liked having him around. "What are you doing in my mind?" she asked.

"I'm sorry!" the Psion woman gasped, struggling in vain to free herself. "I just wanted to get a gauge of your emotions. To see which way you'd rule."

"To gauge my emotions? What do you suppose my emotions are now?" Luna said, scowling. It was truly a terrible sight to behold, and those who had been on the receiving end of it knew what it meant.

"I apologize for Lura's haste, my queen," Mystan said, knowing that fighting Amok was pointless, and confident that she would release him. "It's not uncommon for a telepath to do that during meetings. It helps us know when someone is angry and defuse the situation before it turns bad. Obviously, I have not coached Lura well enough to know not to do so in your presence. As she is learning, it can prove dangerous."

"Indeed it can. Since both you and the Icewalkers have similar complaints, I'm going to turn your issues to a moderator, so that I don't have to deal with such a trivial matter. Amok, show them to the door."

Amok grinned and carried them through the heavy doors and shut it on them. He walked over to his mistress and was rewarded with a delicious candy cane. As the beast settled back down in front of the fire, Luna's thoughts again turned to how simple things had been back on Third Earth. In fact, she mused, Third Earth might even be the solution to her problems.

* * *

Shade laughed as she came to a stop in the middle of the thick jungle on the Dark Moon of Plundarr. It had been many, many years since she had been able to run and jump so freely, not for at least thirty years. In fact, she felt at least sixty years younger and was loving every minute of it. She'd taken ill a while ago, thanks to someone poisoning the water supply, and somehow that had opened her mind up to the spirit of some long dead entity.

She didn't actually know much about it, when she really thought about it, but it seemed friendly enough. It had offered to restore her to youth and grant her incredible strength in exchange for a chance to experience being alive again. She couldn't fault the spirit for that, could she? But Shade had rejected the deal, initially. The temptation for youth and a chance at revenge were strong, but she had questioned the motives of the spirit. Something didn't feel right.

A few days ago, while she had been relaxing with her father, Red Eye, on the Royal Moon, the spirit had urged her to return to the Dark Moon so it could share something with her. A token of its kindness. Once she'd landed and it explained where she would need to go she'd been crestfallen. Such a journey would take its toll on her feeble frame. And that, she thought wryly after the fact, was probably the point. The spirit covered her body, de-aging her and invigorating her with such energy that she'd travelled for almost a full day with barely a break. She rested the palm of her hand against a thick tree trunk and wondered, not for the first time, where she was being led.

"Onwards, you'll see," the spirit's voice rumbled in her ear. The voice was deep and made the air around her vibrate. Seeing no other viable option, she continued.

* * *

There was an old weathered sign swinging in the gentle breeze on the Royal Moon, as Psychro of House Myntaello entered the bar. The faded image on the sign resembled a black cape draped on a coatrack. 'The Nightcloak Bar &amp; Grill' it read. He'd heard good things about the place, the kind of place that seemed to attract its fair share of single women; something he was in the market for tonight. He scanned the crowd for prospective dates to take back to his hotel room. There were lots of men, mostly younger, though a few old codgers dominated a table by the corner.

A woman dressed in a skintight black outfit caught his attention first, though the red gang marking on her chest suggested she was more trouble than she was worth. A half Psion, half Tigress woman was certainly something unique in a place like this, but she wasn't quite what he was looking for. Then he saw her; a pretty young woman sitting at a table by herself. She wore a purple shirt that was fairly modest, and a lengthy black skirt. There was an air of mystery about her and she seemed to have presence. He ordered a drink for himself, another for her, and walked over.

Her eyes locked onto his even before he was at her table. That face, he knew it now. She was that actress. He'd seen one of her movies and had even fantasied about her later that night. She'd been in the news recently, too, involved in a romance with former king, Tycho. Everything was coming back to him now; Tycho had been seeking a consort and she had been one of his prospects. Then there'd been abductions and attacks. When Tycho had abdicated the throne he had also ended their courtship, which just meant that she was back on the market. He'd never been with an actress before, and that sent a thrill of excitement through him. If only he could remember her name. Eluosi! That was it.

Oozing as much charm as he could, Psychro placed the spare drink in front of her. "I know a beautiful woman like you probably has a boyfriend around here somewhere, but I figured you might like another drink." He was part Psion and part Icewalker, and the former had granted some measure of smooth-talking, it was a gift he'd used on many unsuspecting women over the years.

She looked from him to the drink and back again. "Boyfriend? Ha! I'm through with men," she replied. "I gave my arm for my last boyfriend and look where that got me. I'm nearly penniless thanks to that bastard. I only came here to have a quick drink before going back to Professor Erdwin."

"Really? I just came from seeing him," Psychro replied. Erdwin was one of the finer genetic engineers on the Royal Moon, and her visiting him made him curious. Of course, explaining to her that he'd gone there to see if he could genetic engineer the perfect sex object was out of the question.

She snorted, so he continued. "Of course, I'm only really on this moon because of my sister. I'm a very loving person when it comes to my family, I don't know what I'd do without her." He watched her closely to gauge a reaction and was starting to doubt whether he'd be taking her home or not. "I can see you're going through some difficult times. I understand that. I only want to help you through this difficult time."

Instantly his brain warned him that he was in danger. Her face contorted in to a snarl and she pulled her sleeve up. "You understand?" she asked, "You understand what it is to sacrifice everything in the pursuit of a dream and to have that dream taken away from you, along with your heart, by some uncaring bastard? For ten years I was a star on the stage and on the screen and now look at my arm. Do you think anyone wants an actress with an arm that looks like this?" The arm was riddled with scars and it bore an unhealthy looking greenish hue. From appearances, she could scarcely move it at all. Confident that he had seen enough to get her point, Eluosi stood and walked out.

Gracefully, though everyone in the bar had seen what had happened, Psychro took the drink from the table and walked over to another woman. "Can you believe that?" he asked. "I tried to offer her a drink and she yelled at me."

"You poor dear," she replied, "let me show you that not all women are like that."

* * *

The summons to the capital of the Lunar empire had caught Alluro by surprise. He had been revisiting his old home moon; swimming in the lake, exploring the sprawling dunes, seeing the vast graveyard where so many of his ancestors had been placed. But Luna was insistent, and a royal request could not be denied.

He was pleasantly surprised to find Tug Mug on the same ship. The two, along with Luna, Chilla and Red Eye, had kept in contact with one another over the few months since they had returned. Almost everyone they'd ever known, prior to landing on Third Earth, was dead, and the mutual ties to the past they carried had drawn them closer.

Along the way, the duo speculated as to why Luna would call them in. Was she too feeling lonely, or just needed people to boss around. Tug Mug remarked that he'd heard rumours of something big being in the works and that she probably wanted them to be part of it.

* * *

"What is this place?" Shade asked in wonder, looking around. Her spirit guide had led her to a place where the trees grew especially thick. She had a suspicion but wanted it confirmed.

"You know," the spirit replied. So, she was in the forbidden place. It was a place of great power, she could feel the energy flowing all around her. But it was also a dangerous place. Many in the early history of the moon had been drawn to this spot and been driven mad trying to manipulate the magical power. Controlling her hand, the spirit touched the nearest of the trees, forcing them to bend out of the way, revealing a path. Shade shook nervously, she'd been mad before and didn't want to be in that state of mind again. "I am with you," the spirit soothed, warming her with its presence. "I will protect you. Inside you will find what I want to show you."

* * *

The Lunar ship docked at the royal spaceport, allowing Alluro and Tug Mug to disembark. Unlike his companion, Tug Mug hadn't been back to the capital since their escape from Third Earth. He had spent much of the last few months catching up on all the drinking and carousing he'd missed while he was gone. The city had changed so much, in his eyes, since the day they'd left that it felt like a new city entirely, gone were most of the building he'd known, and the few still standing were considered historical monuments. Unchanged, however, was the gleaming palace.

Another familiar sight was Red Eye, who was waiting for them. He flashed the Darkling a grin and bounded over to him. "Eet's good to see you, Red Eye," he said, soliciting a chuckle from the other man. Luna's band of Lunataks had had their differences, but time apart had made their relationships stronger.

"And you too, Tug Mug. I see you've put on weight," Red Eye replied, gesturing for the pair to follow him.

"I have. Thank you for noticing. Do you know why Luna has called us?"

"Perhaps. I've got my suspicions, but nothing concrete. She's planning something though, anyone of importance has been summoned to see her."

"That's what I've been hearing too," Alluro interjected. "Two of the high priests of Psion took an earlier shuttle. Is Chilla here too?"

"She and a delegation of Icewalkers arrived last night. But, you know Luna, she will keep us in suspense for as long as she can," Red Eye nodded.

The trio walked through the city streets. It was busier here, close to the palace, and the store owners were more flamboyant and desperate to catch their attention. Tug Mug stopped briefly at an Icewalker vendor's stand and purchased a pair of 'meat-on-a-stick'. It was hazardous to do so, since Icewalkers weren't picky about what (or who) they ate, but Tug Mug assured the other two that it was delicious.

The guards at the front door to the palace gardens checked their identification and, once it cleared, admitted them. "Guest quarters have been arranged. I can take you there if you want," Red Eye said. "Luna's meeting isn't until this evening, so there's plenty of time."

"Why don't we drop our stuff off and then go somewhere and catch up? Eet's been too long," Tug Mug said, decidedly.

* * *

The trees continued to bend in her wake, resuming their positions once she had gone by, leaving Shade little choice but to continue on. Even though it was pitch black, Shade could see fairly well thanks to her natural heat vision. It warned her before her other senses that she was coming to the end of the tree line. She stepped out into a wide clearing and gazed around in wonderment. It was unlike any clearing she'd ever seen before, with the trees arching overhead to create a dome. At the heart of it was a small broken structure, oval in shape and made of some strange stone. She cautiously walked closer, mindful that the spirit was with her and examined it more closely. The rock felt warm, though it didn't register as such, and was slick with moisture. Across the doorway was a pillar that had probably stood to the side. Some force had cracked it near the base, causing it to topple. She could still access the door if she needed to.

Shade felt pressure to open the door, as she'd suspected she would. She crawled over the pillar and tried the handle. Instantly she withdrew her hand, a powerful shock raced across her fingertips. But the door was now open. The spirit urged her to venture further inside, trusting it to guide and protect.

* * *

Psychro pulled on his pants and looked smugly at the now empty bed. The woman, what had her name been again, had left some time ago, lamenting that she would never find another man who could do the things he'd done. She'd invoked three of the four Lunar gods' names, if he recalled; one short of his record. Now that it nearing mid-day, he figured he should rendezvous with his sister. Psikaris was the other reason he was in the capital, she and her boyfriend were going to be part of some big meeting and she wanted him there too. What kind of meeting required a pair of mechanics was the next question. He would worry about the answer to that later, for now he wanted some lunch.

* * *

The oval structure was bigger inside than Shade had originally thought. A short hall led to a narrow flight of stairs with no railing. She followed this down several stories and came to a wide open expanse. The power she'd felt before had grown stronger the deeper she'd gone, and now was an audible hum. Above, aside from where the staircase reached up, she could see the roots of the trees, reaching down like clawed fingers through the earthen ceiling. At the heart of the chamber was a deep pool of water. It was here the spirit guided her to look. "No!" she said firmly, the walls and hum swallowing the sound of her voice. "No!" she thought to herself instead, knowing the spirit could read her mind. "I'm not going any further until you tell me what's going on."

All around her person the spirit shifted, a disconcerting experience, and she sensed it laughing. "You're protesting now? Now when you need me most? If I left you, this place would consume you in seconds." The malevolent undertone disappeared and the spirit grew friendlier again. "This pool is a seeing pool. With it you can see anything that has happened in the past. This is all I wish to do to you, show you what has happened."

"Very well."

* * *

"You're a fool!" Chilla hissed. Luna's crew had been standing face to face with Mumm-Ra, the ever living source of evil. He had brought their ship down on Third Earth, and they had wanted vengeance. But things soured quickly, the Lunataks had underestimated how powerful a sorcerer Mumm-Ra was. Red Eye and Chilla found a hiding spot in Darkside, while Mumm-Ra harassed Tug Mug, Alluro and Luna.

"Surrendering might be worth while," Red Eye repeated. "Perhaps he will let us live if we agree to serve him."

"An Icewalker does not serve anyone," Chilla snapped, "and if you betray us, I will kill you myself."

"You? Kill me? Try it!" Red Eye's sidewinder, a disc that could shoot fire, pointed at her. A blast of flame from this short range would probably result in her death. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she readied a breath of cold air. Moving quicker than he could react, she encased his throat in ice. He gasped and clawed at the collar, trying to get air back. He would never find out whether Chilla would have left it there or removed it, because Mumm-Ra caught sight of their bickering and had smacked them around too. Soon all six Lunataks would be encased in molten lava.

* * *

The water rippled and Davyn of House Iespyk, one of Chilla's grandsons, snickered quietly at the edge of the water reservoir. "I wonder how many Darklings will die today," he whispered, pouring the poisonous contents of his bag into the liquid below. "Doesn't matter, every one of them deserves it. I wish I could kill them all." He looked up sharply, hearing voices, and bolted into the brush. Many would die as a result of the tainted water, but Davyn himself would be caught trying to escape. He'd been burned at the stake, denouncing Darklings everywhere.

* * *

Shade watched as the pool showed Nitro of House Iespyk, Chilla's son, stood at the bedside of his own son. "I have decided, at great expense, to grant you the use of the Icewalker flagship, the Honour Of The Moon. A hero of Chilla's stature deserves nothing less than the best we can offer. Remember that you are representing me on this mission, as loathe as I am to admit that, so do not screw this up," he said, a scowl on his face, showing that he didn't like the boy very much.

"And what of the others? There are wanted posters for the rest of the crew. If they live still?" the son, Knave, asked.

"If they live, eliminate the Psion and the Darkling. They could give our enemies an advantage we do not want them to have. Luna may have her uses. She could be a powerful ally to our cause. The Graviton I leave to your discretion," Nitro replied.

* * *

The water rippled one last time. This time showing her father, sleeping soundly in his bed and the same Knave, creeping towards him with knife extended. She watched in horror as he drew back the bed sheets and cocked his arm, ready to drive it into Red Eye's chest. He almost succeeded, except that another, whose form she couldn't make out, grabbed him and pulled him roughly out of the room.

* * *

Lunch consisted of Bovine Mutant sandwiches and steamed vegetables. They were a rare breed of Mutant, kept mainly for their delicious flavour. Psikaris wasn't a huge fan of them, but both her brother and boyfriend, Cameo, were. Cameo was not currently present, he'd been asked to be at Luna's side early to go over a few things and so she and Psychro were left alone. The two were in Psikaris' living quarters, a place much more spacious than the shared cave they'd had on the Ice Moon.

"I gotta give that boy of yours credit, he makes a mean burger," Psychro noted, wiping his lips on a cloth napkin.

"It's an old family recipe, he says. And he has a name," Psikaris chided. She'd always looked up to her brother. Although she wasn't a fan of his womanizing he was the only real family she had left, and she loved him dearly.

"Yeah, yeah. So, has he been treating you well?"

"He's been a proper gentleman. He doesn't even mind that I missed our one month anniversary for a symposium on heat sinks," she replied, chewing on one of the vegetables.

"If I find out he was with someone else that night," Psychro's voice trailed off dangerously. As much as she loved her brother, he was equally protective of her, bordering on being over-protective.

"Cameo's not like that," Psikaris assured him, surprised at how defensive she felt and banishing the seed of doubt she had. "I trust him. Anyway, I'm glad you came. I've heard bits and pieces of what Luna has planned, and I want you to be in on the ground floor. This is big, but I can't tell you anything yet."

Psychro recognized her attempt to diffuse the tension between them for what it was and let it pass. He also saw her excitement about whatever this project was and smiled at her. If she was this interested in something, it had to be important. "I'm honoured you thought of me. It's good to have my little sis in high places."

* * *

"Why did you show me all that?" Shade asked, finding herself seated on the ground by the pool of water, exhausted from the visions. She felt drained physically and emotionally by what she had seen. So much hatred towards her family and people from that one clan of Icewalkers.

"I merely open your eyes to the truth. Your father keeps dangerous company. The House of Iespyk has tried to kill him a number of times, and nearly killed you as well. With my help, you can protect him. You just need to trust in me," the spirit whispered, somehow heard over the constant humming. "He needs you, Shade, and you need me. He is with two members of that family now, unguarded. Unprotected. Unsafe. You must go to him at once, and I can help you. Trust me."

Her heart trembled, and her legs felt weak. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not that made the air around her go still. Shade knew the spirit spoke the truth, that her father needed her. She needed to be there before his blood was spilt, and there was only one way to do that. "I accept," she said. Immediately the power of the spirit seemed to grow, Shade's body felt even stronger than before and then she felt lighter than air, soaring through an opening in the dome that she swore had not been there before. Soon Shade was flying across the moon, travelling high above the tree tops to the nearest space port.

* * *

"So then I said to her, Gravitina baby, eef you want to ride the carbine all you gotta do ees ask," Tug Mug said, taking another gulp of beer. The trio had found Chilla and secured a quiet table out of the way at a local bar. "How about you, Alluro?"

"My sex life is none of your business, Tug Mug," Alluro snorted, which meant that he hadn't had any. Alluro was the first to brag whenever he had a conquest. His table mates laughed at him. "I haven't been looking either. Too much has changed on the Psion Moon for me to indulge myself like that. I've been trying to catch up on eighty years of advances. Even for me, there's a lot to learn."

"Een other words, you need to learn new pick-up lines," Tug Mug said.

"At least you're lucky," Chilla said, her mood gloomy and dark. "I'm an important figure on the Ice Moon. I'm expected to have a trophy mate, even if I already have a son, a son that's older than me, mind you."

Red Eye touched her hand sympathetically, surprised when she didn't immediately snatch it away. They'd had a very brief conversation about this already. Both had lost spouses during their time away and were still coping with the grief that came with it. Both had children who they would outlive. He hadn't even considered the possibility of replacing his wife, it was too soon. Traditionally a Darkling grieved for a year, and that meant another ten months. He could see a cutting reply coming from Tug Mug and gestured the Graviton not to make it. Chilla was in a foul mood, taking her husband's death very hard even still. It was rare that anyone got to see the loving side of the Icewalker woman, and Ren had been one of the lucky few.

"Luna's under the same pressure, Chilla," Alluro said. "As queen, she will be expected to produce an heir. Especially with all the bloodshed there's been since we left."

"I wonder who the lucky man will be," Tug Mug chortled. Red Eye gave Alluro a nod of thanks. He'd also seen Tug Mug's impending remark and known that Chilla would not appreciate it. Now that the Graviton was otherwise distracted, the tension was eased.

* * *

Being careful to make no sound, Zanaya crept through the sparse jungle towards a particularly tall tree. Up there was the hive of the Darkside bees. Sky Tomb's computers spoke highly of the flavour of the sticky honey they made, with an additional note from Red Eye that the meat of the bees themselves was quite succulent.

There were many hand holds, allowing her to climb the tree with ease, even in her condition. Already, she could feel her body changing to accommodate the baby that was growing inside her, and she cursed the goddess that had made this happen. She had seduced Knave in order to get information out of him, but she had also angered Lunis, goddess of the Icewalkers and of fertility. Her punishment had been to make his seed take root and experience every single complication known to Lunarkind. More than once, she had considered aborting it, but figured the consequences for that would likely be worse.

Desperately she clung to the tree, as another wave of nausea overtook her. When it passed she resumed her climb, finally reaching a narrow ledge outside the bees' hive. Gingerly removing the pack from her back Zanaya scooped a healthy portion of the honey into a container she'd packed. Even though she possessed innate camouflage powers, she was still nervous about the bees. A single creature that size would do considerable harm if it stung her.

Seconds passed as Zanaya watched the bees flitting to and fro, knowing there had been a disturbance but unable to locate it. She waited until one was flying almost directly beneath her and jumped, knife bared, driving the blade deep into the bee's head while extending her camouflage to it as well. It landed on the ground with a sickening thud, the bee's soft hide absorbing the impact for her, though she was momentarily stunned. She collected as much of the bee as she could carry and carted her prizes back to Sky Tomb.

* * *

A quick glance at his monitor told Cameo everything he needed to know; his people were in their positions and all was quiet. Luna was inviting all manner of important dignitaries and had been insistent on going over the security for the event with himself, captain of the fleet, and a Royal Lunatak named Taurin who commanded the ground forces. Cameo had taken his new posting to heart and was working on familiarizing himself with all the pilots.

He had been assigned an office near the air strip, which is where he currently was, observing the flight patterns of his people. His people. That still sounded odd to him. He'd been a fine pilot back on the Ice Moon, one of the few career tracks open to someone with his mixed blood heritage, but had been promoted swiftly upon risking his life on Luna's behalf and showing unswerving loyalty. She respected that, and was willing to overlook the fact that his father was a Solarian.

"Grey wing, tighten your formation, you're drifting," he spoke into the headset he wore, spotting the anomaly. Perfect. Luna had briefed himself and Taurin already on the meeting she was planning; it was what allowed them to be informed but also be vigilant for those who might try and take advantage of a situation. Luna was ambitious, perhaps too much so, but it just might work.

* * *

Shade stepped out into the open, the spirit allowing her to revert to her elderly form. There was a ship on standby waiting for her, and it wouldn't do to reveal her secret quite yet. "Take me back to the Royal Moon," she said, a little harsher than she would have liked. She was in a hurry, though, and social niceties could wait.

"Yes ma'am," the pilot said, helping her into the ship.

Moments later the tiny ship was arcing through the atmosphere, streaking through space towards the Lunar capital. Shade didn't watch her home moon fade from view, she kept her eyes focussed in front of her, trying to urge the ship to go faster, get her to her father's side. He needed her.

* * *

A lone Mutant warrior was creeping closer to Skytomb. Knave could faintly smell the sweat and fear of the canine as it walked through the rocky terrain. Knave and Zanaya had been abandoned on this primitive planet that the inhabitants called Third Earth. There was question in his mind whether this had been a deliberate act or simply a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time; he suspected the latter but wouldn't doubt the former. Ever since that day he and Zanaya were taking shelter in the former Lunatak fortress.

He growled as he remembered the woman. She had manipulated his emotions to get information, and the only thing keeping her alive was the fact she carried his child. Once the whelp was free from her womb he swore to take his revenge.

The Mutant's presence was curious. Certainly the Skytomb files indicated that the Mutants and the Lunataks had a working relationship. Both parties had been stranded on the planet, with limited numbers, and had realized that working together increased their odds. Of course, Mutants being Mutants, these alliances were only temporary and were peaceful only until it was more useful to be otherwise.

Knave had gone out to forage when he had heard the whine of the creature's aircraft and he'd sprinted back to base. Sure enough, the jackal was staring at the door to the elevator, wondering how to get inside. Knave counted himself fortunate, on one count, that he was of mixed race, with Cheetah blood running through his veins. He closed the gap between himself and the Mutant in record time, tackling him into the dust. "You're not in friendly territory, Mutant," he growled, venting some of his frustration at Zanaya on the man.

"But we Mutants have always been friends of the Lunataks," he yelped, twisting to try and see who had pinned him.

"What do you want?" Knave said. The records indicated four Mutants, and that meant that he and Zanaya were outnumbered. Proving his superiority over the jackal was key in convincing the others to stay away.

"It's been too quiet lately. Vultureman swears he saw a ship in the area and figured you might have left. Let me go, please," the canine, Jackalman if Knave remembered the entry correctly, said.

His stomach growled. Food had been scarce, and the hunt had gone poorly. Mutant flesh wasn't considered gourmet, but it would do in a pinch. Yet, killing Jackalman now would encourage the others to come and investigate. "Luna left, but Skytomb is still Lunatak property and we still live there. Now you should be going too." Knave loosened his grip and stepped back, letting the Mutant stand and brush himself off.

"Well, it's been nice meeting you. If you need anything, just call," he said, scurrying hastily to the parked vehicle.

He watched Jackalman leave for a minute and re-entered Skytomb. Maybe there was some food left in the storage hold.

* * *

Tycho, one time king, held the formal document in one shaky hand. A courier had delivered it less than an hour ago and insisted that he read it immediately. He would have done so anyway, it bore the seal of the royal court of law.

He could hardly believe the contents of the document; Eluosi was challenging Luna's right to the throne, stating that she would have been married to Tycho if not for Luna's return from the dead. In fact, that seemed to be the crux of the argument, that Luna had 'died' eighty years ago and therefore should no longer be eligible for the throne. Barring that, Eluosi was demanding a large sum of money, one that would certainly curtail Luna's plans.

He stared incredulously at the signature at the bottom of the page. Cyril Takin. He was easily the most expensive, and best, lawyers in the moons. Eluosi had money from her acting career, but surely she couldn't afford his price tag.

About the only thing Tycho was certain of, was that Luna would have to be told about this at the right time. She was an old school ruler, and that meant that there was only one way to handle such a challenge. Luna would hire an equally pricy assassin and remove Eluosi entirely. That's the way things were done, and people tended to turn a blind eye towards the practice. Tycho didn't want Eluosi to die. He did feel bad about what had happened to her, had been blaming himself for her injury since the day it had happened, and she certainly deserved to receive some kind of compensation.

It was the timing that bothered him most, he decided. He and Luna were about to meet with important people from all the moons to discuss Luna's latest idea of fostering unity. There was tons of work to do and she wouldn't want any distractions. He couldn't afford the distraction either, especially with only another hour before the meeting would take place.

Carefully, Tycho folded the document back up and placed it on his desk. He would discuss the situation with his closest friend, Darius, later.

* * *

For such an announcement, Luna had chosen the royal audience chamber. It was spacious and allowed for everyone to have room to stand without being crowded. It also afforded Luna the ability to be the centre of attention in comfort.

Psychro cast his eyes around the room, recognizing many of the faces. There were many high ranking officials present, along with a handful of tradespeople and dignitaries from the various moons. He spied a Paeder of House Snowskin, current captain of the Icewalker fleet, and waved. He'd seduced her before her posting and remembered her as being very loud. She flushed brightly and turned away.

The doors swished open again and he found himself breathless. One of the most attractive Icewalker women he'd ever seen had walked in, escorted by a Darkling, a Graviton and a Psion. "That must be Chilla," he thought to himself, drinking in her flawless body and making it his goal to meet her. She took a seat near the front of the auditorium, which made sense as she was an old ally of Luna's.

Another set of doors, more ornately furnished and located near the raised dais opened, held by two Royal Lunataks in the purple garb of the royal guard. Tycho entered first and announced Luna's approach, though the sound of Amok's fists and feet on the floor did a better job of it. The queen was helped off Amok and placed in the large, and heavily cushioned, chair. The brutish creature settled at her feet, barring anyone from getting to his master without going through him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Luna began, capturing everyone's attention. "Thank you for being so prompt. Over the last two months I have seen our people fractured, unable and unwilling to work together. This must change. When I was ruling eighty years ago, we understood that it was only by co-operating that we could be strong. Our greatest strength is our diversity and the power we have at our disposal. Over the last two months I have also heard complaints of food shortages, a lack of resources and land. I intend to change this as well."

Psychro glanced around him and noted that she had the complete attention of all. She continued. "What we need is to expand our borders, and I happen to know of a planet ripe for the taking. Third Earth. We will send five hundred people there to build a new city. The planet's only serious threats are nine Thundercats, and surely five hundred Lunataks can crush nine Thunderians."

A ripple of laughter swept through the room, though one person was not amused. "Have you forgotten Mumm-Ra?" Alluro asked pointedly. "He encased us in lava the first time we tried to take over. What's to stop him from doing that again on a larger scale?"

"A fair question. Mumm-Ra needs us to destroy the Thundercats. He won't act until that is done. But, for all his power, even Mumm-Ra can't resist the might of the Lunar empire. And you, Alluro, are going to help ensure that."

"You've got to be kidding. You expect me to lead the attack on Mumm-Ra? Not only is that suicidal, but it's not happening either. I refuse to leave the Moons of Plundarr because you want revenge." Alluro's eyes narrowed. Psychro knew enough of the man to know that such fear and doubt in his abilities was rare.

Luna seemed unimpressed. "You will go, Alluro, or you will find yourself in shackles for the voyage. You see, fellow Lunataks? It's such attitudes that make the universe think we are weak, that we are content to hide on our moons while those who offend and attack us are left to do as they please. Have faith, Alluro, I would not be sending you if I did not have confidence in you. Tug Mug, Chilla, and Red Eye will be accompanying you. The four of you will act as advisors to Tycho. He has agreed to govern in my stead until such time as an appropriate successor is chosen."

"You have the support of the Icewalkers," Chilla hissed. "My people are ready to go to battle, especially against those disgusting Thundercats." Psychro listened and smiled at the sound of her voice. It was as harsh as the moon itself, and he loved it. Conquering her would be a challenge.

"As are the Darklings. The Thundercats have opposed us too often to go unpunished," Red Eye said, clenching his fists. "And I crave to revenge myself of the demon priest Mumm-Ra. Encasing us in lava was a crime he must pay for."

"I suppose, as long as eet's not a permanent posting," Tug Mug said.

"Once Third Earth is ours, Tug Mug, you and the others are free to return to the moons again. Your expedition leaves in two months. Each moon is to send a hundred people. I leave it to you to decide how to choose your delegates, and I will provide you with a list of specialists that we will require," Luna said, drinking deeply from a glass of wine at her elbow.

There were plenty of questions fielded as soon as she opened the floor for it, questions of how they would find food, what materials were already present, and so forth. Psychro listened to it all with interest. Psikaris had been right, this was something he wanted to get in on. The money that he would make off this kind of venture was enormous. And besides, Chilla was going to be there too.

* * *

There was a lavish reception following the meeting, varying kinds of appetizers served with glasses of wine, beer, and water. Luna was pleased, overall, with how the meeting had gone. There were dissenters, people claiming that war on such a distant planet wasn't feasible, but Lunataks were a proud people; they didn't take kindly to insult and most considered there to be a blood debt owed to Mumm-Ra, assuming he had blood.

It would be a tremendous undertaking, though. Once the Thundercats detected their operation they would doubtless investigate. They were an honourable race, taking it to a disgusting extreme, and that would prove their downfall. Luna was reasonably certain that if Tycho preached peace they would leave them alone, granting the Lunataks time to mass their forces and plan a proper attack. They might even offer to help, a concept she found somewhat amusing.

Mumm-Ra was a different story. Like the Thundercats he would investigate the goings-on in Dark Side, Alluro was right about that. And Mumm-Ra would be harder to convince to leave them alone, especially since Tycho had no experience dealing with the devil priest. The first time she'd seen him, she had been shaken by his size and raw power crackling around him. It was only with time, and seeing him defeated countless times, that the fear had been worn away.

She engaged in small talk with the other delegates until she spied Alluro at her side and groaned inwardly. She'd hoped his questioning was over. Luna guided Amok and the hypnotist to a quiet corner. "You still have questions, Alluro?" she asked.

"I do. You remember that the Thundercats and Mumm-Ra aren't the only threats on Third Earth, right? Mumm-Rana, the Tuskas, Warrior Maidens, and who knows what else is out there. Five hundred Lunataks are strong, but we're not enough to take over an entire planet, Luna," Alluro said.

"We don't need to take over the entire planet. Not at once. We will content ourselves with the destruction of our enemies and then fortify ourselves. We will send more of our people to Third Earth if we need to." She sighed heavily. "Listen closely. I told you earlier that I had faith in your abilities, and I mean that. Tycho needs someone who will question his decisions and you fit the bill." The two stared at one another for a long time, a mental battle of wills taking place. Finally, Luna broke the stalemate. "What will it take to get you to co-operate?"

Alluro stepped back, startled by the offer. "I want power," he said, finding his voice, "Mumm-Ra doubtless has all sorts of magical artifacts that I can use to augment my own naturally brilliant abilities. Anything we find belongs to me."

"You ask a lot. We will build a city in the desert of the sinking sands and you will govern that region. But only once I see the rotting corpses of the Thundercats," she replied, leaving it unsaid that if Mumm-Ra wasn't destroyed that him finding a city next to his pyramid would be disastrous.

* * *

The food was good, Psikaris acknowledged to herself, especially the ones with the green filling. She wasn't certain what they were but they were delicious. She, along with a handful of engineers, were gathered and listening to Sore Gore of the Gravitons talk about the latest engine modification idea he'd had. He was one of the most famous Gravitons because, unlike his kin, he was remarkably skinny. Such a keen mind for mechanics he limited himself to only three meals a day and rarely consumed alcohol. This made him the target of ridicule to his people, though they firmly respected his mind. Psikaris was hoping that he would be one of those to go on the Third Earth expedition as the chance to pick his brain would be a delight.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she something that was about to interrupt her conversation. She'd been out with her brother before and knew well the look on his face. He'd selected a target and was about to make his move. Psikaris could scarcely believe the target in question. She excused herself politely and tried to cross the crowded floor to either intercept him or minimize the damage.

She could see Psychro placing his hand on Chilla's shoulder, turning her away from the conversation she was having with Red Eye. He clearly said something to her as Chilla snorted derisively at him, then her brow furrowed and she shoved him away. Psikaris was close enough now that she heard Chilla say "Better hypnotists than you have tried that, and if you ever try it again..." as she breathed ice around his feet.

The crowd murmured at the incident, looking and hoping to see if it would escalate. Under other circumstances it might have, if a glob of thick black goo didn't strike Chilla, coating her in the sticky substance from her feet to shoulders. "Death to House Iespyk!" a female voice shouted from near the ceiling.

Psikaris looked up in time to see a woman clad in black, wearing a silver mask and dark blue cloak, fly through a crescent shaped window. Psikaris reached her brother and quickly helped him free himself from the ice, while others worked at assisting Chilla. Security personnel arrived and demanded that Psychro come with them.

* * *

"I'm telling you, I don't know who that woman was. I was making a pass at Chilla when it happened," Psychro said, pleading with the grim faced Royal Lunatak that stood on the other side of the bars from him. He'd been unceremoniously dumped in a holding cell a few moments ago. Psikaris had tried to follow but had been barred from entering. The questions were all the same, suspecting him of being a diversion while the real assailant got in to position. "This is all a big misunderstanding. I want to go out with her, not kill her."

The officer stepped back and turned to a young Psion standing nearby. "There's an easy way to learn the truth," the Psion said, taking a seat on the floor. Psychro barely had time to comprehend what was about to happen before he felt the invading mind, sifting through his memories. It felt dirty, and that in turn brought other memories to the surface. Just as suddenly as it had begun, the contact ended. The Psion scowled at him. "You are disgusting."

"Does he know the woman?" the guard asked.

"It wouldn't surprise me. There are many women in his mind, including your sister. Most of them naked. But if he knows anything about the attack I couldn't find it. I can vouch for his intentions towards Chilla. I don't believe he would hurt her. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take several showers," the Psion replied, dusting himself off and taking his leave.

"See? Completely innocent. I guess I can go now?" Psychro asked hopefully.

"For now. And stay away from my sister."

* * *

The transition from frail elderly woman to energized young woman and back again was exhausting. Shade settled on a park bench in the palace courtyard catching her breath and mentally chastising the spirit within for its theatrics. She hadn't had a plan when she'd approached the domed reception hall and looked through the window on the roof. Her father was there, mingling with the hated Chilla. The woman was getting agitated and her posture indicated violence was coming. The spirit begged her to let it take control, to protect her father from her oppressor and send a clear message.

She'd felt the spirit adjust her outfit further and jump into action. It was disorienting at first, having no control over what she did, it was like watching the events unfolding on a video screen. She wondered whether the spirit could make such a situation permanent. "A bit melodramatic of you," she thought.

"Perhaps. But the showmanship was necessary. Chilla and her kin will be too busy seeking us to carry out their plans. Your father is safe now, thanks to you," the spirit whispered in her ear.

A guard, patrolling the area for the attacker, approached Shade's position, causing her to momentarily tense. "You'd best come inside, ma'am, there's dangerous people about," he said, offering his arm.

"What a nice man you are. Your mother must be proud," Shade replied, playing it up a bit as she accepted his help. There'd been a time when she hadn't needed such help, it seemed so long ago.

* * *

Where was she, Knave fumed as he stood in the control room of Sky Tomb. Zanaya had been gone on her foraging run for hours now and should have been back. It was difficult to gather anything since they were confined to a single vehicle; the Lunattacker. She was also the only one who could venture outside of Dark Side, given that the only land route out was through the Fire Rock Mountains. Fire rocks were just a local name for a substance called Thundrainium, a mineral that was deadly to Thunderians. Knave had never encountered Thundrainium before, and had no desire to do so now, even if his Icewalker half might afford him some immunity to the stuff.

The Thundercats were able to get through, though. Sky Tomb's records spoke of a Forest of Mists that the Thundercats used to enter, and how only powerful lights could pierce the fog. There was another way, though equally as dangerous as the Thundrainium; the Valley of Chains was said to have a tunnel that reached through. He slammed his fist on the control panel, was there no safe place on Third Earth? What had happened on the planet to be so backwards in the first place?

"Control panel bothering you?" Zanaya asked. Her pose indicated that she had been in the doorway for quite some time. She was good at that, not being seen, and he hated how often she used it.

"I'm just frustrated," he said, choosing to end that conversation. "How was your hunt?"

"My kill is sitting in the kitchen, waiting for you to do something about it," she replied simply. There was no need to elaborate, they'd argued at the beginning over who would do what, and Knave had chosen cooking, fearing that Zanaya's assassin background would provide her with the means to poison him. There were flaws with the logic, not the least of which was that she could still poison the food, but she let it go.

As much as Zanaya hated to admit it, she needed him, and the happier she could make him the better. Zanaya knew of many of the complications and side effects that could befall a pregnant Psion and knew that she would be emotionally and physically drained by the time she was due. He would need to help deliver the baby and provide her with food and drink. After the child was born she would be unable to stop him from killing her.

"It's about time. I was worried you might have wandered off to betray me again," he said, coming very close to her. Close enough that she could feel his cool breath on her face, the stench of meat offended her senses but she didn't give an inch.

"I would never do that to you. I love you, remember?" Knave snorted and left. Idly Zanaya sauntered over to the Sky Tomb computer to see what he had been looking at when she'd entered. An entry on Fire Rock Mountains. Thundrainium. That was something she hadn't considered. A wicked grin played across her face. Maybe she could handle him after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Expansion &amp; Conquest by Jonathan Prideaux  
Chapter 2

The prison cell was made of stone, with solid metal bars across the door. A mattress was the only furnishing, though a wooden platter with a mug of beer and a thin loaf of bread rested near the entrance. The sole occupant wasn't terribly hungry at the moment.

Kaprenius; only son of Aristarchus. When his father had attempted to seize the throne Kaprenius had been there by his side, not from any particular sense of loyalty, but in an attempt to raise his own station. Things had gone badly and Aristarchus had escaped. Kaprenius had not. He'd been turned over to the Graviton government for sentencing because he'd made the mistake of trying to intimidate them over to their side of the conflict. After a lengthy trial and deliberations, they'd finally set a date.

The young man shuddered at the prospect of death awaiting him. A gravity carbine would increase his mass over the course of an hour. It would be an effort to move at all in short order, even something as simple as breathing would become painful to do. Eventually he would expire from the enormous pressures. Kaprenius was gleefully told stories of how sometimes they would let the pressure continue well after that, smearing the accused into a fine paste.

Two days. That's all that was left to him. Two days to ponder his fate and pray for a miracle. He drew his knees up to his chest, and forced himself not to cry.

* * *

In the three days since Luna's big proclamation, work was heavily under way in preparing the dozen space ships that would carry crew and supplies. Many of the materials, it was believed, could be found already on the surface of Third Earth, and one of larger ships was going to be left behind, to be cannibalised as needed.

All in all, Tycho was pleased. He was also, as his longtime companion Darius would point out, delaying the inevitable. Luna was bound to find out sooner or later about Eluosi's challenge to the throne, and would probably be sending out her assassin's sooner rather than later. This made it even more important that Tycho get to her first. He knew where she lived, and drove himself there.

He knocked on the door, praying no one was home. No such luck. Eluosi's eyes were full of hatred for him, and he couldn't prevent a flinch. "Unless Luna's surrendering the throne, I don't want to speak to you," she said, harshly.

"Eluosi, please. This has to stop. Luna will kill you, I know she will," Tycho said.

"So, they want to kill the rest of me then? My arm is already near lifeless, why not the rest of me too? You know, a month ago, I was depressed enough that I might have let her assassin do their work. Finish me off and make me whole again. But now? Now I have revenge in sight, I cannot be stopped."

Tycho sighed, the weight of the world resting on his shoulders for a moment. "It doesn't have to be this way. Please. We have to find a way, and we will heal you, and your career will flourish again."

"Ha! How long did you try and find a way to revive this arm? And now I have found someone who can do it, someone who is helping me get what I want, someone who actually cares about me. Unlike you, I might add."

"Who?"

"That's for my benefactor and I to know, and you never to find out. Enjoy your time in power while you can," Eluosi said, closing the door on the stunned prince.

* * *

Eluosi walked briskly from the front entrance to her bedroom. The room was sparsely furnished with pale pink paint adorning the walls and floor. A shelf over her bed held the three awards she'd won for her work on the stage and screen. A binder lay open on the bed itself, full of reviews of her performances.

The other occupant of the room smiled warmly. "Tycho?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Voices carried quite well in this house.

"You were right. He tried to persuade me to abandon the lawsuit, threatened to have an assassin kill me," she replied.

Aristarchus took her hand and patted it gently. With his natural charm, and a telepathic nudge from someone on his payroll, he'd managed to manipulate her mind into forgetting that it had been he who had orchestrated her abduction along with Tycho, and had led to her injury. She was so blinded by her anger that using her for his own vengeance was almost too easy. "There, there dear. Let Luna send an assassin after you, and it will only prove that she is unfit for the throne. The assassin will fail and the public will turn against her, trying to kill a star of your calibre. Ah, I remember this night well," he said, drawing her attention to a newspaper clipping. "You were the only bright spot, well worth the price of admission."

"You're right. We can use this assassination attempt against Luna. She won't know what hit her."

* * *

Cameo walked around his desk and sat on the edge facing his guest. Paeder, captain of the Honour of the Moon, stood rigidly at attention, clearly displeased with the turn of events. It wasn't so long ago that she'd tried to have Cameo exiled to Third Earth based solely on the fact that he was of mixed heritage. Though his mother was part of House Mymekon, his father was a Solarian, a planet nestled amidst eight suns. She probably would have succeeded had Luna not intervened on his behalf. The half-breed had managed to worm his way into the queen's heart by sacrificing himself to protect her. It was all a clever scam, Paeder told herself, unused to being wrong about people, and Cameo would someday prove her right.

The problem was that Luna had also promoted him to the position of captain of the Lunar fleet, which meant that he outranked Paeder now. Icewalker's were raised to treat their superiors with respect and honour, and that warred against her personal dislike for the man. He had summoned her to his office an hour ago and so here she was. Cameo was letting her wait, making her wonder what sort of business the two of them had. It occurred to her, suddenly, that he might possess enough pull to have her demoted. Such a thought must have shown on her face, because Cameo ended her curiosity.

"Captain Paeder, I'm glad you could be here. I've got a problem that I need your advice with," he said, surprising her completely. The last thing she expected was a request for help, unless he was being sarcastic. "Luna has informed me that I am needed here on the moons and that I must choose someone to command the air forces on Third Earth. It's also been suggested that I should choose such a person in a political fashion. Icewalkers are the superior commanders, everyone knows that, but I can't be seen to be playing favourites with my home moon. I want you to understand that you are not receiving this posting out of any personal vendetta I might have against you."

Paeder nodded, still too confused and surprised to say much. "Good. Then I figured that if I can't grant you that kind of position that you might help me pick someone who is qualified. Someone you can work with, since I am assigning you as second in command in my stead."

"Thank you. I wouldn't have expected such kindness from a half-breed. There's a Darkling captain I've heard good things about. Captain Stalker," she replied. She'd faced him in combat on two occasions and been impressed with his grasp of tactics.

"A Darkling? I thought Icewalkers and Darklings couldn't get along, that certainly will help with the politics side of things. I'll do it then, I'll arrange a briefing with the two of you as soon as I can," Cameo said, standing and offering his hand in friendship. If she and Stalker could put aside the animosity between the two warring moons, there might be hope yet that this would all work out.

* * *

Shade followed Nitro through the city streets, pleased with how well her younger body was working. He had a small security detail protecting him, but they would be of little use if she decided to hurt him. She'd run through the potential scenarios in her head and was reasonably certain that she could incapacitate him and be away in under ten seconds.

She shook her head. The spirit's thoughts were mingling with her own, and it was a little confusing to figure out which belonged to which. Shade had killed plenty in her times as part of the Dark Moon's patrols, but those had been trespassers and hardened criminals. There was still some lingering doubt.

"Wait and watch," the spirit cautioned her. So she did, slipping easily into the lavish guest quarters that had been afforded the visitors from the Ice Moon, as the guards peeled off to stand outside. The temperature within was kept low, to make sure the guests were comfortable, but Shade didn't seem to feel it.

As she walked down the hall, several steps behind Nitro, she passed a mirror and was startled to see an Icewalker face staring back at her. The spirit had altered her appearance without her noticing, something she didn't really realize it could do. Nitro stopped at the door to the room he'd been assigned, the guard outside that door saluting crisply. "How's my pet doing?" Nitro asked.

"She's been complaining about the cold, sir," the guard replied, both men oblivious to Shade standing nearby. She could only assume that the spirit was doing something.

"Then I'd best warm her up," he replied, opening the door long enough that Shade was able to sneak in. She watched, horrified, as a Darkling woman rose from the bed and bowed before him.

"You've returned, master. How did your meeting go?" the woman asked. When she raised her head, Shade could see a collar around her throat.

"It went well. Luna is a wise woman who knows the value of the Icewalker people, she's offered me the choice of going along to Third Earth, but I'm undecided. With Chilla going too I don't want to leave the Ice Moon unprotected," Nitro replied, stepping close enough to her to touch her. His hand stroked her head, like one might do to an animal, comforting and patronizing. Shade had seen enough. She grabbed a chair and smashed it over Nitro's head, knocking him unconscious in a single blow.

"Come on, I've got to get you out of here," Shade said, removing the collar from the woman.

"What are you doing? You've hurt him!" the woman pushed Shade aside and inspected Nitro's wound. It didn't seem to be fatal, and he would doubtless come round shortly.

"You're not his prisoner anymore. Let's go, you're free!" Shade said, trying to take the woman's arm and confused as to why she wouldn't let her.

"I'm not a prisoner. Maybe I used to be, but I love him now. He loves all of us. I'm calling the authorities," the woman rose and screamed, drawing the guard from outside. Instantly Shade jumped out the window and soared to safety.

* * *

"...that the natives call a 'Tongue-a-saurus.' Naturally, with a name like that, I had to go see one for myself. Despite its hokey name and goofy appearance the Tongue-a-saurus is all business. Before I knew it I was back in Dark Side. (See attached picture of Tongue-a-saurus.)"

Zanaya closed the journal entry. She'd seen enough pictures in Tug Mug's diary to know better than to open any attachments. She swore that she had seen more scantily clad women reading his diary than she had in the all girls school she'd attended. It was with some resignation that she had begun reading the journals and data entries of the Lunataks. She and Knave were likely stranded here for the long run, and knowing the dangers and food sources was integral to survival. Of course, Zanaya was sure of her own survival; the gods had promised that she would bear a child and that guaranteed at least seven more months of life. Her stomach churned some more thinking of the growing collection of cells within her womb and dreading the effects that were to come.

Psion women had it worse off, in some ways, than did other Lunar women. At the seven month mark the beginnings of psionic powers began to take effect, strengthening bond between mother and child. On the one hand, such gave the mother the benefit of having a better understanding of how the child was feeling. On the other hand some infants were known to drive their mothers insane with their confused thoughts. Given the dire portents she'd been given, Zanaya knew this was coming.

Further thoughts were driven from her head by the sound of the proximity alarm going off; someone was venturing close to Sky Tomb. A quick glance at the monitor revealed what she and Knave had feared. Mutants. "We've got incoming. Two Skycutters and one Nosediver!" she shouted into the intercom. If the Mutants wanted a fight, they would get one.

* * *

Knave swept the last dregs of Thundrillium into the furnace. They would need to find a supply of the stuff soon or Sky Tomb would be useless as a base. They'd already reduced power as much as they could in an effort to conserve.

Now there were Mutants. He raced through the doors and out into the middle of the rocky plains. The Skycutters were inaccessible, but the Nosediver was fair game. He picked up speed and barrelled headlong at Slythe, playing a game of chicken; confident in the Mutant's overconfidence. The Reptile believed that his machine would easily win any collision, making his surprise that much more pleasing when Knave jumped up and over him, his claws raking Slythe's back as he passed.

The odds were heavily against the Lunatak pair. The Mutants had the advantage of attacking from the air as well as numbers, making it crucial that Knave dispatch with Slythe quickly. The Reptilian Mutant cried out in pain as he turned the Nosediver around for a second run, this time firing the vehicle's lasers to discourage Knave from trying the same trick twice. The beams missed their target by a narrow margin and Slythe grumbled that Vultureman hadn't fixed the targeting systems yet. "Give up, Lunatak! We'll get you yet!"

Indeed, Knave wasn't feeling very optimistic. Too much time had passed and the three Mutant vehicles were getting closer and closer with their energy blasts. He was quick, but he wouldn't be able to last forever. Had Zanaya finally abandoned him? No, that wasn't likely. Where was she then? Even as he formed the thought, the woman answered his doubts for him, jumping from Sky Tomb on to Monkian's Skycutter. She drove her knife wickedly between his shoulders, sending him hurtling onto Jackalman's Skycutter, which was just below.

"Slythe! Monkian's hurt!" the Canine whimpered, glancing at the steady stream of blood flowing from the open wound. "And someone's got the other Skycutter! I say we retreat!" Zanaya circled behind Jackalman and fired several shots, damaging his aircraft. Not waiting for an affirmative response, Jackalman high-tailed it for Castle Plundarr.

Now that the odds had been reversed, Slythe had little choice but to join his cowardly companion in a hasty retreat. Tired and sweaty, but feeling exhilaration, Knave returned to Sky Tomb while Zanaya parked their new vehicle in the hangar.

* * *

Scowling, Shade paced through the small patch of forest she'd chosen to gather her thoughts. It was peaceful here, reminding her very much of her home on the Dark Moon, and she was all alone. Almost alone, she corrected, and that was part of the reason she'd selected this deserted area. "Why did you show me that?" she fumed.

"I showed it to you to show you the evils of the Iespyks. You see how he feels for Darkling women? They are nothing but bed warmers to him, living only to pleasure him. You heard what he called her; a pet. An animal. He corrupts their minds into thinking they love him. I assure you, he cares nothing for her. But I notice that you did not kill him. Why is that? You have allowed such a vile man to live. If your father dies because you couldn't do what is right..." the spirit's voice trailed off, allowing her mind to fill in the blanks.

"I can kill. I will kill, I promise you that. The next time I meet Nitro, he will not be so fortunate."

* * *

"Hmm... This is very odd. Tygra, come take a look at this and tell me what you see," Lynx-O said, stationed at the control centre in the Tower of Omens. Tygra and the Thunderkittens were visiting, after dropping off some much needed supplies. All three approached to see what had caught the elder Thunderian's attention.

"By Jaga's beard! It's the Mutants leaving Dark Side, and they look hurt," Tygra exclaimed. Indeed the camera revealed a lone Skycutter with two passengers, one of whom, Monkian, seemed to be matted in blood and slumped over. The Nosediver followed close behind and Slythe too seemed to be injured.

"That's what I thought. But what could have happened to them in Dark Side?" Lynx-O pondered.

"Maybe they did us a favour and took care of those two Lunataks," Wily Kat snapped, still remembering how the one called Knave had threatened to eat him.

"Wily Kat!" Tygra chastised. "They may be Lunataks, but one of them is a pregnant woman and the other is part Thunderian. We owe it to them to make sure they're alright."

The kitten didn't seem to be thrilled with the prospect, clearly preferring that his assessment were right. "You can go, I'm staying here where it's safe."

"Fine. You and Wily Kit stay here with Bengali. Pumyra, Lynx-O and I will investigate. Call Cat's Lair and let the others know what's going on," Tygra said, patting the youngster on the shoulder. Lynx-O nodded and followed Tygra out of the room.

* * *

From further down the hall Kaprenius could hear some sort of activity. Visitors, from the sound of it. Here in this maximum security area there was only himself and the guards, so he wondered who could possibly be coming to see him. He prayed that it wasn't a conjugal visit. The Gravitons had offered to supply him with a woman before his execution, but he'd seen the women around here and didn't feel like being crushed under their weight before he was crushed under his own.

A pair of Gravitons ambled into view, a male and a female, fuelling Kaprenius' fears and stepped close to the bars of the cell. The male pressed a meaty finger to his lips to forestall any questions and glanced back the way they'd come. "Kaprenius. You will not be put to death. Your father has allies even here. We have a plan..." he whispered low.

* * *

Psychro wiped his greasy hands across his coveralls as he stepped back and admired his handiwork. Cameo's personal fighter craft was purring like a kitten now. A fan belt had come a little loose and had been making a rattling noise. He let it run for a few moments longer, just in case, and gestured for Cameo to cut the power. "There you go, sir. Good as new. You got a minute?" he asked, watching as the man who was both his potential brother-in-law and his boss descended a ladder to the ground.

"Sure, what's on your mind?" Cameo replied. He gestured for the mechanic to follow him into his office and leaned against a filing cabinet, waiting to hear what the other man had to say.

"You've been pretty cozy with Psikaris for two months now, and this is the first chance you and I have had a chance to really talk about it. So let me get to the point. You hurt her and I will hurt you," Psychro said, threateningly.

"I knew this conversation was coming. Why do you think I asked you in particular to look over my engine when I've got 'Karis around?" Cameo said, unimpressed by the macho posturing.

"Maybe. But Psikaris needs a man who will treat her right. I find out you plan on using her for her body and ditching her at the first sign of trouble..."

"That's funny coming from you of all people. How many bastard children are you up to again?" Cameo snickered.

"And how many angry family members have I had to fight off. My point still stands. As long as Psikaris is happy, we're cool. You ever mistreat her and I will find you."

Cameo stepped forward, "Are you done? Good. This conversation, as far as I'm concerned, is moot. I will do whatever it takes to make 'Karis happy, and that includes tolerating her overprotective brother. You and I go way back. I trust you, I respect you, but if that feeling isn't mutual then you can walk out that door and go back to the Ice Moon, because I don't want you around here."

The tension hung in the air between the two men. Finally both men relaxed, confident that they had each made their point. Turning on his heel Psychro left Cameo's office.

* * *

As he lay nestled against Nuiane, Nitro wondered just what had happened tonight. He'd entered his quarters intending to have some fun with one of his harem girls and the next thing he knew, he was staring up into the face a pair of security guards. Nuiane had filled in the details for him, but they didn't explain why. He didn't think he'd offended anyone. Nuiane didn't know his attacker, so that ruled that out. She'd been caught stealing from the city on his watch and he'd offered her a position in lieu of being sent into the dungeons for a year. When her time was up she'd decided to stay. That wasn't wrong, was it?

Some, he conceded, would view her as initially being an unwilling companion in his bed and, perhaps, he'd had to punish her for disobedience more than once. She cuddled closer to him, trying to seek warmth in a room that was kept relatively cool. She cared for him, even though she wasn't his favourite. Which was weird, in a way. Icewalkers kept many lovers, and a harem for a powerful Icewalker wasn't terribly uncommon. He'd heard that it had started as a means of keeping warm during the colder times of the year. But Icewalkers, though more open to such things than other Lunataks, still tended to keep to their own sub-species. Nitro didn't. He'd always been intrigued by the exotic, which is why his lovers tended to be of other races; Chilla did not approve, and as head of the House he had to follow her rules. He'd been forced to give up his non-Lunar woman, a Panther female. He hadn't liked doing it, but he'd had her sent down to the kitchens and guiltily enjoyed eating her for breakfast the next day.

But none of that really told him why the mysterious woman had attacked him. Was it the same woman who had attacked Chilla not so long ago? What had his House done to upset someone that much? Sensing his disturbance, Nuiane rolled over and comforted him the best she knew how. Soon, all thoughts of assassins and strangers in the night vanished.

* * *

"Dammit," Knave muttered, glancing through the gaping maw of the hangar doors. He had decided to take a look at the Skycutter to determine what, if any, repairs it needed. More importantly, however, would be flight time. He knew the basics, and Mutant ships were notoriously easy to operate, mostly due to the simple minds they were built for.

Zanaya was nearby in the hangar, checking the fuel supplies and looked up at his remark. She followed Knave's gaze outside and saw the Thunderstrike swooping in for a landing. "Thundercats? What do they want?" she asked.

"Who cares? Let's just get rid of them," Knave replied. The battle with the Mutants had been too brief, just long enough to start his juices flowing but not long enough to satisfy his thirst for blood. The Thundercats, at least, wouldn't turn at the first sign of danger.

"We can't afford to make more enemies, much as I'd like to kill Thunderians," Zanaya started to point out, looking fixedly at Knave. She didn't need to voice the thought there was one of Thunderian heritage in particular that she would like to kill. Though he wasn't the brightest individual, Knave was able to pick up on the subtle inference and backhanded her hard, spinning her to the floor.

"Some Thunderians can kill too," he snapped. A momentary fear of harming his baby flashed through his mind, but he figured it was fairly safe. Zanaya rose to her feet and met him nose to nose.

"Anyone can kill, but I'm better at it."

"Some assassin you are, have you ever actually killed anyone?"

"Sleep lightly. I need you only until I find an alternative."

"And I need you only long enough to bear my child."

Hateful glare met hateful glare, neither wanting to show weakness in front of the other. Both were spared the shame when Tygra's voice called out from below. Asking if they were alright. "We'll settle this later," Knave said, pushing past her.

Zanaya fingered the knife at her hip. "No. I'll settle this," she murmured.

* * *

The Thundercats were waiting patiently at the bottom of the elevator, a sense of relief when it opened to reveal the two Lunataks. Neither one seemed to be injured, though Tygra could almost feel the tension between them. "Um, hi. We saw the Mutants leaving Dark Side and felt that we should make sure you're okay. The Mutants looked like they'd been through a fight and, given that we have a kinsman and a pregnant woman here..."

"We're fine," Knave said crisply, hoping that the Tiger wouldn't take the hint and would do something to provoke a confrontation. Tiger Thunderians were the most succulent of the Thunderian breeds, and it thrilled him to see such in front of him.

"Be that as it may, I can't help but feel that you would be better off staying with us. Pumyra here is a healer, and she could help your friend here with your pregnancy."

Zanaya eyed Pumyra sceptically. "Have you ever delivered a baby?" she asked.

"Well, no. Thunderian births are very rare and I never got the opportunity to take part in one, but I know the principles behind it," Pumyra explained a little sheepishly.

"Not to sound ungrateful, but I think I'm better off here for now. Psion births can be very tricky," she said, recalling the stories she'd heard. "If I change my mind, I'll remember that you offered."

The Thundercats shrugged helplessly; they weren't used to people being so stubborn about refusing their aid and weren't quite sure how to react. Seeing, ultimately, that there would be no changing Knave and Zanaya's minds they turned for the Thunderstrike. "If you do change your mind, you can contact us at the Tower of Omens," Lynx-O said, pausing. Then he climbed into the cockpit and fired up the engines.

"I think I just found my alternative," Zanaya whispered to herself.

* * *

Darius walked up and down the aisles of the quaint store he was in, admiring the various designer clothes hanging on racks and trying his best to ignore the hovering salespeople. He'd shopped at this store for years and had a good reputation with the owner, but he sometimes found the clerks a little pushy.

With Kaprenius' execution fast approaching, Tycho would need an appropriate wardrobe for when he attended, and naturally Darius volunteered to do the shopping for him. It was actually very easy, he had a good eye for fashion and his shape changing allowed him to mimic Tycho's body perfectly. A black shirt with dark purple trim caught his eye; the black was sombre enough for the occasion while the purple reminded people of his stature. It was also soft to the touch, a thought that made Darius tingle a bit.

Pushing intimate thoughts aside he took the garment into the change room and took on Tycho's familiar form. It was a little tight about the neck, but that could probably be modified. It also went nicely with the very dark purple pants he'd found earlier in the his excursion. Tycho would be very happy with the purchases. Reverting to his proper state, Darius collected the bundle of clothing and proceeded to the cash desk. As he reached for his money his personal communicator chirped. "Darius speaking," he said, handing the salesperson the required amount. "Oh, hello my Queen, how may I... I see... I understand. I'll be there at once." He closed the communicator unhappily. He and Tycho had foreseen it happening but had hoped to delay it. Luna had found out about Eluosi's claim and now she insisted on speaking to the duo in person.

* * *

It was later in the day than Shade expected, but she'd found that she needed more rest now than she had in years past. She cursed her aging body, but didn't dare allow the spirit to transform her into her younger form with Red Eye around. No. For now it must remain a secret. Which brought to mind the question of where he was, as she passed into the shared living room area in their guest quarters. Luna had been very generous with accommodations for her friends and this spacious two bedroom suite, located just steps from the palace, was quite lovely.

She rummaged through the fridge for something to eat and located her father's specialty. 'Edible Darkness'; a thick and gooey substance that was surprisingly healthy, though difficult to stomach more than a few spoonfuls. She hadn't had any in a long time, no else being able to get the consistency quite right. And then it occurred to her that her tastebuds had dulled with time. With Red Eye not around, could she experience the joys of eating like she used to? The spirit seemed to snicker at such a use of its powers, but understood. After all, it had been centuries since it had had taste buds itself. The contortions of her body seemed to take longer as she de-aged, but she barely noticed in her excitement.

Shade forced a spoon into the pot and took a small helping, sliding the spoon past her lips. Memories of her childhood flooded her mind, remembering being given it as a treat for doing well in school. Of picnics and special occasions. As she lowered the spoon from her mouth she caught sight of a note on the counter.

Red Eye wasn't in, it said, he was out with Chilla and wouldn't be back until dinner. A sudden pang of fear raced through her. Chilla had lured him away, but why? She needed to know. "Spirit, can you show me?" she asked aloud.

"I can, though my powers grow weak. I need more rest. Close your eyes. Concentrate on your father and open your mind to me. I will find him for you," the spirit replied. She did as it commanded, startled when she felt herself leaving her body. She saw it still standing below as she drifted through the ceiling of the building, her spirit guiding her movements. She turned and surveyed the city, finally seeing a mote of light not too far away. The spirit guided her essence towards it, settling them on one of the city temples, the one dedicated to Lunis - the goddess of warriors, fertility and the Icewalkers.

* * *

Chilla had been in this temple only once, and that had been before they'd gone to Third Earth for Luna. The original structure had taken a fair amount of damage during the riots shortly after they'd left and much had been replaced. It was still the same basic structure though. Pale blue and white walls adorned with frescos depicting the glories of battle and miracles of birth. At the heart was a spacious circular room with the traditional blood covered table. She felt Red Eye beside her shudder at the sight, reminded that the table was a place where many had given birth, but many more had been slain upon its surface. A statue of a pregnant warrior, sword pointed in challenge, stood near the table.

With a steadying hand on her arm, Red Eye followed her to some padded chairs to the statue's left and sat quietly next to her. She wasn't fully certain why she'd asked him to join her in this. She was a very private person in most regards and such a baring of the soul was uncommon. It was likely due, in part, to their common loss. Red Eye's wife. Her husband. Most other Icewalkers scoffed at her for taking only one mate, but she'd felt that Ren encompassed all the traits she needed in a man.

"Great goddess Lunis, who watches over all who fight. I ask your support in what I am about to do," she said to herself. She wanted Red Eye for emotional support, but he didn't need to hear what she had to say. "Luna is sending me back to Third Earth on another fool's errand and I would ask that I might serve my people and the crown well there. Reserve a place of honour for me and let me die with dignity that I might be re-united with Ren someday, but first allow me to send all my enemies to their graves."

She continued for many minutes, before sitting in silence, opening herself to any response the goddess might deign to give. An image formed. Four people standing in front of a beautiful city. She recognized herself immediately as the image solidified, the man beside her was Nitro. His bastard son, Knave, was next in line and a baby girl already clad in warrior's garb. Chilla wasn't certain what the vision meant but thanked the goddess nonetheless. She glanced over at Red Eye and nodded. She was ready to leave.

They enjoyed a pleasant mid-day meal and walked around the palace grounds. Chilla didn't really feel like being alone yet and, though they talked of many things, Red Eye knew well enough not to discuss what had happened in the temple, for which she was grateful. That was the nice thing about him, he knew her moods well enough to read them and didn't feel the need to use them for his own amusement. It was a shame, in a way, that he was the wrong species.

* * *

Shade returned to her body with a jolt. "My apologies, Shade. I am weak," the spirit within said. "I have pushed myself too far and I need rest. I do not think your father is in any immediate danger."

"Me neither," she said absently. She felt guilty for intruding on such a private moment. Chilla, it seemed, didn't bear Red Eye much ill will, and whatever praying she'd been doing was none of Shade's business. The ice woman was in pain, and that tore at Shade's heart. She knew what it meant to lose someone close to her. When first her father had gone missing she'd been devastated. She'd always been closer to him than her mother, more so when her mother re-married. The step-father had tried to be kind, but he wasn't Red Eye and she'd reminded him of the fact often. When their car had collided with another and the couple was killed, Shade had felt incredible guilt for not treating either better.

She wondered if that was the reason her own romances failed, she was harboring too much baggage from those days and was afraid to let them get close enough. Either way, it didn't matter; she was too old now, or was she? She had the spirit now, a creature that could restore her to youth. She needn't worry now that she could assume any form. It was tempting, on some level, but not yet. Certainly not until the spirit had recovered. Her bones and muscles aching, Shade walked to the couch and settled back down.

* * *

This had been his office once, Tycho thought as he entered the room Luna now occupied. She had changed little since her return, though the chair behind the desk was new as was one of the paintings on the wall. The woman herself held a sheaf of papers in one hand and was drumming on the desk with the others. She commanded them to take seats before her with an intimidating glower. The muscle behind that intimidation stood on guard to her left.

"How long have you kept this from me?" she asked, waving the papers in their direction.

They all knew what this was about, so there was no point in denying it. Tycho had, in fact, been dreading this very conversation ever since Eluosi's declaration had crossed his eyes. Luna was, probably justifiably so, angry and how she would vent said anger was something he had hoped to delay a little longer. "Well, your majesty," he said slowly, picking his words carefully, "we've known for a couple of days now. I was rather hoping that I'd be able to talk her out of this business before it got to you."

"I see. You thought I didn't need to know about a challenge to my throne. What else have you kept hidden from me?" she snapped.

"Nothing, my queen, I assure you," Darius said quickly. Judging by Luna's face, Tycho wondered if it hadn't been a little too quickly. He'd spent a long time trying to read the honesty of people by how they spoke and he rarely trusted quick answers.

"Darius speaks the truth. You're right, of course, that we should have come to you right away. But I honestly thought I could get through to her. She's just misguided. The Eluosi I knew would never want to see anyone hurt, even someone who hurt her. I just don't know what's come over her."

"A lust for power has come over her, that's all. She got a taste of it when you courted her and now she sees a chance to get more. Since you've obviously been unable to neutralize her in four days, I will deal with her myself," Luna said.

"No!" Tycho shouted, catching himself before he stepped forward. His mental calculations assured him that Amok would intercept him long before he got close enough to her. "I mean, that's what your husband did, killing his enemies and that touched off riots."

"My husband was an idiot. The people need to know who is in charge, but there is a right way to do things. Where my husband held public executions, I have sent for a specialist; someone who will make an example to all those with designs on my throne," Luna said. Theirs had been a marriage of convenience, a means to solidify their respective claims to the throne. There had never been much in the way of love or romance. Some affection, certainly a degree of friendship, but never love.

"Please, Luna, this isn't necessary. There are better ways..." Tycho began.

"I have given you two leeway these last two months because I was away so long, but sometimes the old ways work. Eluosi will die, and that's the end of it. If I ever catch either of you harbouring secrets from me, I'll use the old ways on you too. You are dismissed," Luna shrieked, sending both men scuttling out of the room.

* * *

That went well, Tycho thought bitterly to himself. The duo walked past the royal guardsmen at Luna's door and further on out into the courtyard. How could he make Eluosi and Luna see his view of things. Eluosi neither needed to die nor to carry out this litigation. Why couldn't these two stubborn women see that? And what would the consequences be? Tycho well remembered seeing the reports on the riots following King Piscaar's executions. Tycho's parents, probably fortunately, had been vacationing on the Graviton Moon at the time and chosen not to return until things quieted down. Would the populace accept such a blatant show of power from Piscaar former wife or would they believe that the same madness flowed through her veins too?

Unconsciously Tycho led his partner to his car and began driving, ignoring Darius' inquiries for the time being. He had to get to Eluosi's home and... then what? He'd warned her already that this was going to happen, and he didn't dare try and protect her from the assassin, did he? That would very likely result in his own death. In fact, the matter was taken entirely out of his hands for the time being. As his mind was pre-occupied with questions of what he should do, Tycho found himself colliding with another vehicle.

* * *

Darius had heard the expression that time sometimes went slowly. Such was the case when the two cars collided. Glass seemed to shower everywhere, twinkling in the light as it cascaded around him, there were scraping and crunching noises, and Tycho's expression changed from distant to pained. An automatic force field surrounded the prince, preventing serious bodily harm, so the changeling wasn't too concerned. As time snapped back to normal speed, Darius could see a crowd of people beginning to form around them. He emerged from the car and gave Tycho a quick once over to confirm that he was safe. Once this was established he approached the other vehicle.

The car had taken the hit side on, demolishing the passenger side. It was very fortunate that there had only been the driver inside. The driver in question was groggy, shaking his head of cobwebs, but seemed otherwise fine. Even as he stepped back, Darius could hear the sirens of the approaching security and paramedic forces. This close to the palace, they were always quick to respond.

Tycho, too, was emerging from the car, brushing the broken glass from his clothes. "By the gods," he groaned, "is everyone alright?"

The other driver emerged from his car, a heavy set Royal Lunatak who stared first at his car and then at Tycho with shock. "What in the Moons do you think you're doing?" he snapped, walking around the wreck and coming face to face with Tycho. "Just because you're highborn means you get to do whatever you want on these roads?"

"Sir, please calm down," Darius said, stepping between the pair.

"And what are you, his babysitter? People like you don't deserve to drive," the other driver snapped, shoving Darius out of the way. Ordinarily Darius would have responded with similar force but, with the proper authorities on their way and Luna already angry at them, he chose not to. Regardless, it seemed like the other man was content to vent his frustrations, as he began inspecting the damage.

Moments later the man would be taken aside by a police officer and questioned at length. Any relief Tycho may have felt as this happened was quashed by a pair of officers taking he and Darius aside and interrogating them at length about their version of the events.

* * *

Cameo had to admit that he found Gravitons amusing to be with. Certainly the way they talked about sex and food (often the one included the other) made Cameo feel uneasy, and the aromas emanating from their bodies bordered on the nauseating, but the way they seemed to let little bother them for long and their ability to concentrate when need be was comforting. Such was the case now as he, Tug Mug and Roly Poly sat in the cafeteria. Prince Tycho had decided that he would have a council to assist him on Third Earth. The four members of Luna's original crew and one representative from each moon would advise him and vote on decisions, with Tycho possessing a veto vote. The two Gravitons were poring over a list of names to represent their moon, and Cameo was listening in since he had nothing better to do.

"We could send Frazzle Dazzle. She's been on the Graviton council for twenty years," Roly Poly mused, a mug of gravy in one hand and a mug of beer in the other.

"She'd want to bring her husband and three kids. She's very attached. Are we taking kids?" Tug Mug asked the Icewalker hybrid, waving an obscenely long sandwich in the air as he did.

Cameo ducked the flying sandwich and answered. "Not in the first wave, I'd expect. Eventually there'll be a need for kids to produce a sustainable population."

"I wouldn't mind producing a sustainable population weeth Frazzle Dazzle," Tug Mug chortled. "Think I've got a chance eef we tell her to leave the husband at home?"

"Not likely, but you never know. What about Six Sticks or Red Bread?" Roly Poly said suddenly, pointing at the names on his list. "Both are brewery owner's sons. I'm sure Third Earth will need a distillery."

"Good point. I can't theenk of a Graviton that wouldn't jump at the business venture."

"Excuse me if this sounds rude, but I've always wondered. How do you guys get your names?" Cameo asked, flicking a piece of lettuce off the table.

"Why? What's so odd about our names?" the two Gravitons asked looking confused from each other to Cameo.

"Never mind. Forget I asked. More beer?" he replied, starting to rise.

"Sure!" they said in tandem.

* * *

It was quiet in the bedroom of Eluosi, a pleasant breeze whistled softly through the window as the woman herself sat at her desk writing out her opening speech at the coming trial. She didn't have too much against Luna, she just disagreed with her being on the throne. Luna's time was in the past, a past full of bloodshed and tears, a past that Luna was now trying to bring back by conquering a new world. Some distant part of her mind reminded her that Aristarchus wanted the same thing, but for some reason it was quashed before it could fully take shape.

She didn't realize it, but a telepath had been interfering with her brain, setting up mental barriers and glossing over Aristarchus' misdeeds. Instead she thought of how he was trying to help her. Her arm tingled a bit where the genetic engineers had been working, trying to coax her damaged flesh to come back to life. Aristarchus was also working on preventing her assassination at the hands of Luna's hired help, another reason to find the woman unfit for the crown.

Eluosi's parents had always been very strict about these things, you took care of things yourself when you had problems. That was half the reason Eluosi had organized protests and attended rallies. In fact, those were the same reasons that going through all this legal bother annoyed her, it was relying on a flawed system to do her work for her.

Her alarm chimed, reminding her that she had another appointment with her doctor to keep. Someday things would be back to normal.

* * *

Luna's fingers drummed rhythmically across the top of her desk, their staccato beat matching Tycho's heartbeat. "I heard about what happened," Luna said, her voice calm and even. Tycho had been around her long enough, though, to sense an underlying tension to it. "I trust you are healthy?"

"I am, my queen. Thank you," he replied, looking nervously at Darius to see if the changeling felt the same.

"Good. Because I can assure you that you won't be if I see you in this office again. You are aware that I have been under a great deal of stress lately getting things ready for your expedition to Third Earth. I also have had trouble sleeping of late and that has put me in a foul mood to begin with. There is a ship heading to the Graviton moon tonight, I suggest you be on it," she said, her voice growing more shrill with every passing word. It was dangerous when Luna spoke like that, especially if one was within easy striking distance from Amok. Tycho and Darius left without comment.

* * *

"Not yet," Zanaya thought to herself as she lazily checked the monitors of Sky Tomb. Ever since the Thundercats had made their way home, she had been going over and over in her head the positives and negatives of leaving Sky Tomb and moving in with those felines. Certainly it would be safer for her there, the cats were unlikely to let any harm come to her, fighting to their last breaths. She would want for nothing and they would wait on her hand and foot, she had no doubt, and that was why she didn't want to go there. Not yet. She suspected there was a finite amount of their smarm that her system could take, and that that amount would grow thinner the closer she got to her due date.

It would be best to wait a few more months, see if there wasn't some way to manipulate back into Knave's good graces, and then kill him at her leisure afterwards. She was, if nothing else, a survivor; she was accustomed to living on her own, and knew that it was only her current predicament that would hinder such plans. There was a clatter of noise behind her, and Zanaya whirled around in her chair to see what had caused it.

Evil. The creature looming before her radiated evil, she could taste the malice and smell the hatred. He was a large humanoid with blue skin, long claws extended from his finger tips and jagged fangs dripping with saliva grinned at her. She had read the reports on this one from the computer's database. "Broken bundle of bandages" and "miserable mummy" hardly seemed to encapsulate this being. Even the largest of the Guardians back on the Moons of Plundarr seemed dwarfed in size and power by this thing that was regarding her with glowing red eyes. Her legs suddenly felt weak under that stare, but she forced herself to remain standing.

"Who are you?" Mumm-Ra asked, finally breaking the gaze. "And where are the other Lunataks?" His tone indicated that there was no refusing to answer and that if he didn't like the reason, there would be consequences. Tug Mug's entry mentioned, in passing, that this was the one who had encased them in lava. A being capable of that could doubtless come up with worse.

"I am Zanaya of the Moons of Plundarr. I was left behind when a rescue party came and took Luna and her crew away," she said.

"What?!? She thinks she has escaped my clutches, no doubt, but she merely inconveniences me. Hmm... I had hoped to make use of her crew, but I suppose you will have to suffice. Come with me and do not fail me or being left behind will be the least of your worries," he said. He gripped her arm and they were flying away.

* * *

That night, Eluosi's slumber was interrupted by her alarm going off. She'd encouraged her family to spend the night elsewhere, as Aristarchus had discovered that her assassination attempt would be tonight.

She couldn't believe how different a man he seemed from the one in her hazy memories. So kind. So loving. He would protect her where Tycho could not. He had assured her that someone would come, and they would try to kill her, but that Aristarchus had everything under control, and this would backfire on Luna. She sat nervously on her bed, threading a wooden brush through her shoulder length hair, the simple act soothing her jangled nerves.

She barely heard the pane of glass break, and was startled to realize just how quickly someone had gained access to her bedroom. A thin man clad in black loomed in the darkness at the foot of her bed, pistol drawn. Her chest rose and fell as her breathing quickened, her heart hammering against her ribs so hard she feared it would burst. But he did nothing, said nothing, just stood there. Jerkily he moved, taking a sheet of paper from her desk he began to scrawl on the page.

Suddenly he whirled on her, his gun once again taking aim, and again he stopped. This time was different. She could make out his face and confusion was written all over it. "What's going on?" he asked aloud, his expression changing to horror as his arm holding the gun slowly raised and pointed the barrel at his forehead. "No! Stop it! You can't..." his words were silenced by a sharp bang, the back of his skull splitting open as the contents within were splattered across the wall.

Eluosi screamed.

* * *

"You lost him," Mystan hissed, displeased with his apprentice. Aristarchus had paid the Psion government a small fortune to take care of this job, and he had allowed Lura to take the lead. As a telepath, controlling a mind like that should have been an easy assignment. The two of them were staked out in the Brythago family backyard.

"I'm sorry," she explained. "I just..."

"Let your emotions get the better of you. I don't need to be a telepath to know that you dislike controlling people like that. But your displeasure and doubts weakened your hold on him. Emotions hinder our powers, rid yourself of them," Mystan said. It was fortunate that he had been watching her progress and had been able to telekinetically grab the assassin's body before he'd completed the job.

"But you said emotions were a good thing."

"I said they *can* be a good thing," he corrected. "If you had hated that man or loved Eluosi you could have used those emotions to strengthen your resolve. Emotions, of themselves, are neither good nor bad, but they can do both. You must learn how to shut your emotions out when they are not conducive to your efforts and how to channel them properly when they are. I, myself, prefer to dispense with them entirely on most occasions. Emotions cloud judgement and I choose to be clear of mind when I'm working. Do you understand?"

"I think so. I just don't understand why we're helping Aristarchus again, I thought the chief priests had decided not to support him," Lura said, trying to fully grasp the concept.

"We did, but we also know the value of money and keeping our options open. By helping Aristarchus we stand to gain should he come to power. There is precedent to what he's doing, and there's a slim chance it will work. Sullying Luna's reputation, too, can only benefit us. Come now, our work here is done and this Royal Moon air is too chilly for my tastes." Mystan rose and led the way back to their car, Lura following obediently behind.

* * *

The air around the Forest of Mists was damp, growing thicker as Knave drew closer to the opening that the Thundercats used to get through to Dark Side. He'd noticed that Zanaya was missing and suspected that she had finally up and sided with the felines. Since there was only the one way through, he was exploring the possibility of traversing it on foot.

To refer to the air as mist was a misnomer, soup was better. He was barely a few feet in and already he could barely make out his hand inches from his face. Only the rope he tied to a rock outside told him in which direction the exit was. To make matters worse, the mist interfered with most of his other senses; sound was muffled and all he could smell was the blasted fog. He suspected that if he were to open his mouth that's all he would be able to taste too. His only hope was that there were no creatures living in this murky land.

He backtracked out and sat down to think. The sun would be setting soon, he would need to either head home or press onwards before the light failed completely. He'd nearly made up his mind when he heard an approaching engine and the Thunderstrike burst through the crevice into Dark Side. It banked sharply and landed, the nearest pod opening up to reveal Lion-O. "We're taking Zanaya back to Sky Tomb, do you need a lift?" he asked, kindly.

A half dozen sarcastic responses came to mind, including a suggestion that the Thundercats had gotten sick of her quicker than he'd expected, but decided discretion was the better part of valour. "No. I've got a Skycutter here," he said, gesturing nearby.

"Well, if you need anything, just ask. We're always willing to help out kinsmen," Lion-O said, pressing a button to close the pod's lid. He watched them go for a minute and shook his head. Sure, there was plenty they could bring. Food, thundrillium, medical supplies. But doing so would mean opening a door to further relations.

Further relations would also mean looking at those dark recesses of his mind. The part that yearned for friendship from his other half. There had been that Cheetah woman, someone who had reminded him faintly of his mother. That boy who reminded Knave of himself at that age, so bold, so brash. That part of him really did want to accept their hospitality, but knew that he would never be fully accepted. Sooner or later they would find out all the things he'd done and they would be horrified. No, he would fit in with them just as much as he did with Lunataks. He just wasn't meant for better.

Still, if they were bringing Zanaya back then there was no need in his standing around at the Forest of Mists. He climbed on the Skycutter and returned home.

* * *

Space flight always made Darius feel more than a little uncomfortable. The Guardian program often involved taking native species and messing with their genetic code. Darius' had been a species that lived in a cave, being close to the earth. It was rare that they even used their wings for flying very high. Tycho, as usual, had fallen asleep almost immediately. The flight would only last three hours, but even so they had been granted the captain's quarters for some privacy.

Darius was busily watching the news, hoping it would act as enough of a distraction for him to forget where he was, when he was suddenly on the bed, shaking Tycho awake.

"Not right now, Darius, it wouldn't be polite to the captain," Tycho murmured, rolling over onto his other side.

"Wake up! It's important," Darius urged. Finally taking note of the tone of voice, Tycho sat up and followed his changeling to the monitor.

"...after a failed attempt to assassinate the former actress," a newscaster said, the Brythago estate shown in the background as a pair of security personnel carried a body out of the building. "We aren't being told much, except that the assassin confessed that he had been hired by our queen and chose to commit suicide rather than carry out his orders. We're hoping for a statement from Eluosi later today, and we have people trying to get word from Queen Luna."

"All of a sudden, I'm glad we're miles away from the palace," Tycho said, staring slack jawed at the images on the screen.

Darius nodded. "That sound you just heard was Luna screaming."

* * *

Psychro scowled. So his plan to woo Chilla wasn't working out, that didn't change who he was. That didn't mean he wasn't still the most handsome and virile man out there. Certainly his prowess wasn't in doubt, if the expression on the woman laying next to him was any indication. She was an Icewalker girl who claimed that she had been named after Chilla. Once he'd heard such a proclamation he had convinced her to wear an outfit similar to the great hero's and let him have his way with her. All through the frenzied coupling he'd noticed the differences; her hair was cut shorter, her lips just a little fuller, her breasts shaped differently, her waistline wider. It just wasn't the same and he'd barely been able to finish.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to fall for him, not the other way around. He would chase them for a while and finally they would succumb to his charms. Chilla seemed more resistant than any other. The poor girl next to him stirred, whispering the pet name she'd given him. "Chro-chro." He hated it, and allowed that to be another reason to leave her in the morning.

* * *

"Well?" Knave asked, walking into her bedroom. As usual he hadn't knocked, a trait Zanaya found irritating. It wasn't the specific act, but his attitude towards her as a whole that bothered her, like she was only the vessel in which his child lay, like an animal being fattened for the slaughter. She stood from her desk and stared coldly at him in response. "You were gone for several hours and come back escorted by Thundercats. Don't you think I deserve an explanation?"

She snorted. "No, but you're not going to leave until you get one if I know you, stubborn creature. Mumm-Ra took me. He said he needed me for some sort of incantation, an extra set of hands to help him sacrifice one of the Thundercats, Tygra I think his name was. The Thundercats came and rescued their friend, chased Mumm-Ra into his sarcophagus and brought me home. It's that simple. Now get out." The memories of that dark place made her skin crawl. Even the desert that should have reminded her of home was of little comfort. It felt unnatural.

"Are you giving me orders? I go where I want and do what I want," he said, walking close enough that she could touched him.

"That's what got me in this predicament in the first place," she said touching her belly. His mood shifted, she noted with dismay, as his eyes grazed possessively over her body. She feared, for a moment, that he would try and force himself on her again. He blinked and put his hand on her shoulder, not for any amorous reasons but to steady himself. She watched, confused, as he seemed to sway on his feet.

"We'll continue this later," he said, starting to stagger to the door. In that instant Zanaya realized what was happening. She'd hidden Thundrainium under her bed, it must be weakening him. She might never have a better opportunity to be rid of him. In a flash she drew her pistol from her desk and tried to fire it, to no avail. She couldn't seem to squeeze the trigger. Panicking, she pounced on his back, driving his head hard into the floor.

Zanaya turned him over onto his back and tilted his head. A clean kill was preferable in most instances, but a messy death was the way to go for one such as him. She yearned to feel his blood spraying across her face, to see that glimmer of life fading from his eyes as it drained away. She drew a slender but razor sharp knife from her boot and placed it against his throat, feeling the gentle pulse of the vein beneath her fingertips.

She couldn't do it. Her mind warred with itself, fighting to do the deed, finish the job, but she couldn't. Pain built in her skull and she flung the knife across the room. She rose and stared hatefully at the man, wondering what it was that was preventing her vengeance. There was only one way to find out, but it was dangerous and she'd never tried it before. Zanaya dragged the weakened Knave closer to the Thundrainium, bound him tightly, and locked him in her room. She couldn't risk him interfering.

Alluro's room was the one most likely to have what she needed, and she wasn't disappointed to find a makeshift prayer orb. Similar to his psyche club crystals, this would allow her to make the necessary journey to the realm of the gods.

* * *

There was a message waiting for him when he and Darius checked into their royal suite. Tycho wasn't surprised in the least, either, to learn that it was from Luna. As he expected it was a profanity laced tirade against both himself and Eluosi, and placed the blame for the failed assassination squarely on his shoulders, promising him a thrashing when he returned from the Graviton moon.

"Well, at least we have something to look forward to when we get back. Should be a great 'welcome home' party," Darius said, sitting cross-legged on the bed and going through their bags. There hadn't been much time for packing so there were bound to be essentials missing. Still, the Gravitons were friendly and would have many basic supplies in stock, unless there were cleaning supplies missing, those might have to be custom ordered.

"I thought balloons were more traditional," he replied wryly, "maybe she'll have simmered down by then."

"One can only hope. We'd better hurry up and get dressed. The itinerary says there's a banquet in our honour in less than an hour," Darius said, handing Tycho his outfit, a red and purple outfit that draped loosely around him.

* * *

The last time she had been in this place Zanaya had been summoned by the goddess Lunis, and had been told that her pregnancy was punishment for slaying an Icewalker. She had been told, at that time, that she was under the protection of another, and that was the only reason her life had been spared.

Choosing to dwell on a more positive memory, she then remembered the only other time she'd been brought here. As an initiate in the middle of the temple, her mentor had guided her on a spiritual quest to seek the blessing of the primary god the Psions followed: Cyris, god of all knowledge, of the Psion people in particular, and death. It was this combination of fields that he had used in guiding her to be an assassin. A protector of the Psions and murderer of others. She had served him loyally for years, and now would need to speak with him again.

Everywhere she turned she saw nothing but rock, stretching on for miles. Tiny stars twinkled in the air, their dim light providing enough light to see by. There was no point in wandering this vast expanse, the gods could control where things were and who could see them. She sat, back straight, head bowed, and waited. If Cyris was willing to speak, he would know she was there.

She felt his presence and nervously looked into his warm and friendly face. He appeared Psion, though that was probably to put her at ease. He stood proud and noble in robes of a shimmering white and purple material. He bore in one hand a book and adjusted the glasses on his face with the other. "I know why you have come child, though you already know the answers to your question. When a Psion mates there is a physical union but..."

"There's also a psychic union that binds the partners for the sake of the child. But he's not one of us," Zanaya said, trying to remember everything she'd learned in biology class.

"No he isn't. You are, and one partner is all that is needed to establish such a link. My poor child, as long as you carry his baby neither you nor he will be able to kill the other intentionally, it would be akin to killing yourself. Besides, he is part Icewalker and I would not be so hasty to kill another of their kind while Lunis is still angry with you. I have sacrificed much to keep you from my realm."

Though he radiated warmth and kindness, Zanaya could sense the undertone of his fearsome power and found it difficult to look at him for long. "But why me?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound ungrateful for the protection.

"Because I am a god of knowledge. I know all there is to know, including the role you are to play. The future is malleable, however, and things may change. Other paths may open to me and I may withdraw my protection. For now you are safe." Before she could speak again, she found herself back in Alluro's room, mystified over what she had been told.

* * *

Shade was asleep when Red Eye returned to his temporary home. She sat in an ornate armchair, head tilted to the side and a thin strand of saliva hanging from her lip. It pained his heart to see her like that. He cursed the mummy who had imprisoned him in lava, causing his family to continue to age while he remained in suspended animation. A father outliving their offspring was tragic enough without adding these peculiar circumstances. He walked over as quietly as he could and draped a blanket around her.

* * *

As the evening progressed Alluro found himself walking through the park, soaking in the sights before he was shipped off again to Third Earth. It was peaceful here, trees and flowers in full bloom filled his nostrils with their fragrances. Too soon the smell of sulfur and Thundrillium would be assaulting his senses. A man rose from a bench as Alluro walked near it.

"Greetings, Alluro," the man said, formally. Now that he was closer Alluro recognized him as Mystan Benekasbeel, one of the high priests of the Psion moon. Alluro greeted him politely and made to continue on his way, but something bid him stay. "I have been told that I will be representing the Psion people on Tycho's council."

"Ah, they are sending their disposable high priest," Alluro said with a chuckle. He'd been around the politics of the temple in his day to know how they operated. Mystan stiffened at the remark but managed to compose himself quickly.

"On the contrary. The high priests feel that having a strong foothold on Third Earth is critical to our needs," he lowered his voice conspiratorially. "If we control both Luna and Tycho we control the empire."

"Ha! If I couldn't control Luna, what hope do you have."

"Ah, we are on the same wave length too. You wish to control Luna and gain power for yourself."

"You don't need to be telepathic to know that. And for future reference, you might advise your pupil that she should be more discreet with her telepathy. It's not my forte but I might be able to pass on some tips if you're unable," Alluro said, staring in the direction that Lura was lurking.

She emerged from behind a tree, managing to look sheepish. Her master bristled at the remark, however. "The stories they told of you failed to mention your rudeness," Mystan said, trying to control his mounting anger. "I am far more capable of teaching telepathy than you, and I dare say that I am your superior in all other psionic disciplines. Remember your roots and stay out of my way."

Mystan walked briskly away, much to Alluro's amusement. It was a shame that some people couldn't see their own inadequacies.

* * *

Knave woke up in his own bed with a start, confused as to how he'd gotten there. He'd been talking to Zanaya when he'd felt weak. She'd attacked him, smashed his head into the ground. The fog began to clear from his mind only to be replaced by a cloud of anger. He grabbed his icepick and sprinted down the hall to her bedroom and burst in. She was standing in front of a mirror wearing her night clothes and brushing her short cropped hair. She turned at his entrance and stared wide-eyed at him.

"How dare you!" Knave growled. He lunged forward with blinding speed, claws slashing the air where she had been seconds before. She was camouflaged now, making it difficult to tell where she was, worse so now that she was in her room, where her scent pervaded everything. But it wasn't perfect, not to one with his keen senses. She brushed against the bed in her haste to get a weapon and he pounced again, barely missing an ankle as she dove away from him. "You hit me, it's only fair that I hit back." His rage had worked its way into a lather and he was beyond rational thought. She clubbed him in the back with her desk chair. He stumbled forward and received a kick to the back of the knees to send him to the floor again.

His mind told him where she was as she swung the chair downwards again. Blindly he reached out and managed to catch it before it could inflict more damage. He jerked it forward and felt her land on top of him. They wrestled across the floor until he managed to pin her. He was feeling the same weakness creeping up on him again and knew he had to finish this quickly. He brought his icepick up sharply and tried to drive it through her heart. But his arms wouldn't budge from that position. He struggled mightily to do the deed, spurred on by her burst of laughter. "Why won't you die? What have you done to me?" he said, his voice starting to falter.

"You can't kill me. How rich. When Psions mate, the man is bound to his partner mentally. He will protect her at all costs and cannot kill her," she retorted, glossing over the other side of the equation. "You'll never be able to kill me. Never."

"Imposs... Impossible..." Knave murmured collapsing. She easily rolled him off and wondered what she could do to him that wouldn't kill him.

* * *

Tycho groaned loudly as he sunk on to the bed, his stomach seeming to have grown three sizes over the last few hours. Gravitons were known for their feasts, arguing that a guest with an empty stomach was an insult to the host. There was certainly no insult today. To make matters worse was that there was another feast in a little over three hours when Kaprenius' execution was scheduled to take place. Darius, at least, had the advantage of being a shape changer and was able to disperse excess mass into the air. The changeling was currently getting Tycho's formal clothes ready to wear to this execution. Seeing his companion's discomfort, however, he approached and sat next to him, placing a hand over Tycho's chest, caressing it gently. Tycho eyed him keenly, observing his closed eyes and fierce concentration. He could feel the weight in his belly lightening and suspected that Darius was carefully absorbing some of the excess mass and dispersing it back into the air. "Thank you," he whispered when Darius finally relaxed.

"It's my pleasure, my liege," Darius replied, bending over and planting a kiss on Tycho's lips. And it was Tycho's pleasure to repay his friend's kindness, though time was limited, in the best way he knew how.

* * *

The feasting hall had been re-arranged in the last few hours. A section of tables had been pushed aside to make way for a small clear chamber. The walls of this chamber were see-through and made of a very hard substance. There was a small platform at the top with a staircase leading up to it from outside. This was where Kaprenius' execution would take place. The guests were starting to file in and the conversation consisted of debating the merits of the punishment. Nitro, for his part, thought that the death would be public and brutal enough to serve as a warning to others. Roly Poly, seated next to him, was looking forward to the execution with particular relish. He'd suffered many injuries at the hands of the Royal's Mutant escorts, not the least of which was mangling his hand beyond repair.

Tycho and Darius arrived about fifteen minutes before the festivities and settled into their assigned seats next to Roly Poly. Nitro exchanged pleasantries with the prince and took a sip of the beer he'd been provided. He disliked beer, especially of the Graviton variety, but had accepted it because it was expected.

A clash of cymbals announced the arrival of the first course of the banquet, to be served before the prisoner was brought out. A thick and creamy soup was placed before the Icewalker. Butter soup, one of their favourites. His hosts had been gracious enough, in light of his heritage, to serve his at room temperature. He found himself unable to eat the whole bowl and politely pushed it aside. He wasn't really here for the food anyway.

A second clash of cymbals announced the procession of both prisoner and a serving of fried tubers; the former in shackles, the latter with a creamy white dip. Nitro sampled one, watching as Kaprenius was carried up the staircase by a Graviton with very pale purple hair. Her complexion seemed a bit off to Nitro too, but he dismissed it as poor lighting. Kaprenius toppled forward into the chamber and tested the sturdiness of the walls. The Graviton hefted a custom designed gravity carbine and turned to Roly Poly.

"Prince Tycho, do you wish to speak before we proceed?" the head of the Graviton council asked. Tycho shook his head, so Roly Poly continued. "Kaprenius. You were found guilty of assaulting several members of the council, attempting to incite a revolution against the throne, and a failed attempt to murder the king at the time. The council pronounced a sentence of death. Does the condemned wish to say anything before sentence ees carried out?"

"Only that I wish I'd done more than mangle your arm, bastard," Kaprenius said defiantly.

"Noted. Very well then. Rathja?"

The Graviton at the top of the staircase aimed the gravity carbine at Kaprenius and enveloped him in a dusty red glow. There was no immediate effect, however, his mass was very slowly increasing. While he let loose with a string of profanity, a meat course was served to the guests. After fifteen minutes he sat down, his breathing becoming laboured. After half an hour he lay down, anguish written all over his face. After forty minutes he ceased breathing entirely. And after an hour he was little more than a bloody smear on the bottom of the chamber.

When it was decreed to be finished, Roly Poly gestured for the guards to take the chamber away. "Well," he said at last, turning to the assembly. "That was entertaining. Who wants dessert?"

* * *

"Well, that was entertaining. Who wants dessert?" Roly Poly said, as the television camera panned over the crowd of people. Watching from closer than the Graviton could imagine a pair of figures sat watching the broadcast.

"I'll give that walking tub of lard dessert," one grumbled to the other, launching a pillow from the couch he was on at the fat Lunatak's head.

"I believe a tub of lard *is* a dessert," his companion said. "You should calm down. Soon we'll be back with Aristarchus and all his enemies will fall. Including Roly Poly and prince Tycho."

"You're right. I will squeeze Roly Poly's neck with my own hands for what he has put me through. I want the last thing he sees to be my face. The face of a man he thought dead. The face of Kaprenius."


	3. Chapter 3

Expansion &amp; Conquest by Jonathan Prideaux  
Chapter 3

"Queen Luna is insufferable," Chilla fumed entering the room she shared with her husband and young son. She found Ren in the kitchen scraping food out of a bowl while Nitro scowled from his bedroom door. Ren turned and faced her, listening but letting her vent. "I tried to warn her that the planet wasn't safe for someone of her rank but she won't listen to reason. Let the strong ones go down first, subjugate the planet, and then I will turn over that blasted belt she's looking for." Her fist lashed out and smacked the wall, startling Nitro. She didn't like scaring the boy, but he needed to be toughened up like a true Icewalker.

"It would serve her right if she got killed down there," Ren remarked, though it wasn't a result he particularly wanted. He, like Chilla, knew that Luna was the better ruler between herself and Piscaar.

"He's not eating?" Chilla asked, looking at the bowl and then over at the boy. He still stood in the doorway looking proud and defiant. He'd been that way recently and it was driving her insane.

"Nope. He'll figure it out sooner or later, for his sake." Ren placed the food in the small fridge they'd been provided with. Chilla nodded in agreement. From an early age Icewalker children were taught obedience, and that there were consequences for disobeying your superiors. In most cases, if a child refused to eat dinner they would be denied food again until breakfast. Most learned this lesson quickly. "He also resorted to name calling, which is why he's standing there."

"A pity. I'd hate to have to start over with a new child," Chilla said, with a bit of a sigh. She really did care for the boy, but only the strongest could survive. It was the way of things on the Ice Moon. It was the way she had been raised, and it was certainly the way she would raise her own children.

"I expect it's this trip. The sooner we're back home the better. When do you leave?" Ren asked, taking a hand in his own.

"Within the hour, she says. There are some strange storms that our pilot is looking at before we go."

"Well, you'd better hurry then. Don't want to keep her majesty waiting. Try to leave some people for me to kill, eh?" Ren wrapped an arm around her, unspoken concerns and fears travelling between them in that simple embrace, a reminder of their love and the desire to see each other again. It was unseemly for a warrior to express such doubts, but these two knew the other well enough to know otherwise.

"Maybe I'll save you one or two," Chilla replied with a smirk. She pulled him tightly to her for a kiss, nipping his lower lip with her sharp teeth. The taste of his blood still fresh on her tongue she bid him farewell.

* * *

Chilla awoke with a jerk, that terrible dream running through her head. She hadn't realized it then, how could she, but that would be the last time she would ever see Ren alive again. Their ship had crashed and he had presumed her dead. He'd been left to raise their son on his own, a son who had risen to great power on the back of her name, but who also shamed their name by consorting and mating outside his species. She shook her head. She didn't really dislike Nitro, though he was now physically older than she was. He had done well for himself; was respected and admired by the people of the Ice Moon, had defended the moon from invaders and seen his city through many hardships. She just couldn't wrap her head around the idea of mating with a Thunderian of all creatures.

Ever since she'd learned of his proclivities she had tried to imagine what it would be like sleeping with one of the Thundercats and hadn't gotten far at all. The prospect was too disgusting for it to even be an option. Even sleeping with another Lunatak was a difficult concept. She had invited Alluro to bed once in a bout of resignation towards their situation, but had been repulsed at the warmth of his skin against her own. He'd never really forgiven her for that night, and had merrily blabbed the event to the others.

Ren had been different. Ren had made her feel strong, powerful, in control of the world. He'd also made her feel loved, a very rare emotion among Icewalkers. He valued her not just for her body, but her mind as well. She got out of bed and paced over to the bathroom, splashing cold water against her face. They'd only been travelling for a day now, dozens of ships laden with materials and people, all making their way to Third Earth, but it felt like an eternity. She hoped that her nerves would ease soon enough.

* * *

Most of the people onboard the Honour of the Moon were Icewalkers, though a few from the other moons had opted to take this ship for varying reasons; case in point was Tug Mug, seated at the table adjacent to her own as Chilla found a seat with the captain. She'd only met Paeder once and had been pleased to see that her initial impressions of the woman weren't justified. Beneath that voluptuous exterior was the cold calculating mind of a proper warrior. Chilla suspected that it was the exterior that had caused Tug Mug to choose the seating arrangement.

She and Paeder were examining a map of the terrain in Dark Side, trying to determine where the Icewalkers would be most at home. There was a large expanse of volcanic activity and the further away from the scorching heat the better. Naturally, the pickings would be improved once Third Earth was conquered, Chilla looked forward to evicting the Snow Man and his pesky cat from Hook Mountain, but that would have to wait.

A groan from Captain Paeder was the only warning Chilla got before she found Psychro sitting next to her, a tray of food in his hands. Broiled fish from the Psion moon accompanying Ice Moon mushrooms. He'd been trying, unsuccessfully, to score a date with her ever since they'd met two months ago at the news conference Luna had held. She knew of him and his reputation as a womanizer and had no desire to be his latest prize.

"Hello Chilla, I was hoping to run in to you on this ship. I've got an excellent bottle of wine stashed with my gear if you'd care to sample it," Psychro said, exuding charm.

She could feel his psionic ability niggling at her will and she wondered briefly if it was conscious or just happened naturally. Her resolve, however, snapped into place swiftly. "Wine? If I wanted to have drunken sloppy sex I'd look for a Graviton before I looked to you," she snapped, a part of her regretting the words even as she said them.

As she'd feared Tug Mug placed an arm around her shoulder. "Really? I can arrange that," he said, chuckling.

"Hey! Keep your hands to yourself. Chilla deserves to be treated like a lady, and I always treat my women properly. Don't I, Paeder?" Psychro said, jumping in before Chilla could retaliate at the Graviton's remarks.

"If I recall, we dated for a week and then you dumped me for an older woman," Paeder said, embarrassedly.

"Ah, but you can't deny that the sex was fantastic," Psychro said, not taking his eyes off Chilla as he said it. If he had been looking, he would have noticed Paeder's blush darkening and her suddenly taking a great interest in the food on her plate.

"Feh! Get this through your head. I am not interested in you," Chilla roared, pushing Psychro aside and leaving the cafeteria, Paeder likewise decided to leave.

Tug Mug turned his attention to the Icewalker/Psion hybrid. "Chilla's always been a bitch, except maybe two days out of the year. But congratulations on bagging the captain," he said, punching his shoulder playfully.

"Thanks, she's not as great as you might think though," Psychro replied absently. A thought occurred to him, though. Perhaps there was a route he had overlooked. The Graviton had known her for a number of years. Perhaps befriending him would prove beneficial to his plans for Chilla. "So, two days of the year, eh?"

* * *

Cameo ducked as Amok threw a vase in his general direction at Luna's behest. Day fourteen of the court proceedings hadn't gone well, though at least today his security detail hadn't had to break up any incidents. Eluosi had garnered a lot of public support after the very public assassination attempt had failed, and the people were demanding Luna's head. They well remembered her late husband and the massacres that had followed his reign. Luna was seen as very old school, and that was worrisome.

Today's topic of discussion in front of the judges had been about just that, Piscaar's reign of tyranny. Although he suspected Luna didn't care much for her husband, using him merely as a means to further her own power, she hadn't liked seeing his name dragged through the mud repeatedly, and the furniture in her office was suffering the consequences as a result.

The worst part for it was that Cameo found himself sympathizing with Eluosi. Luna could hardly be considered the most stable of people, as she was demonstrating, and Eluosi deserved to be compensated for her losses. He would never say as much, naturally, out of fear that Amok might improve his aim.

"Are you still here?" Luna suddenly shouted, startling him out of his train of thought.

"Yes, I wanted to drop off my report on the security proceedings for the day, as you requested," he said, suddenly remembering the paper he held.

"Bring it here and go. I want to be alone," she said, selecting a stapler on her desk to be her next victim. As Cameo hurried out of the room, he heard it smack against the wall.

* * *

Once again, Knave found himself at the Forest of Mists, a long coil of rope in his hand. He had secured one end to a post just outside the mouth of the cave and was slowly making his way through, one hand pressed against the wall. He assumed that he would eventually either run out of rope or pop out the other side, but he had to try. Some day Zanaya would try and leave him, she'd sworn to do as much, and he wanted to be able to rescue his child from her.

She killed children for her power. She said she had to do it to satisfy her god. She might just sacrifice his baby to feed her needs and he couldn't allow it. Besides, she wasn't an Icewalker. How could she be expected to keep the child safe from harm?

As before Knave found the mists almost suffocating. They muffled sound and rendered his sense of sight and smell useless. It felt disorienting and more than once he had to force himself to keep going. Finally he ran out of rope, after what felt like a good half hour of blindly stumbling through the darkness. That ended this expedition, so he turned around and followed the rope back out to the entrance, promising himself to bring more rope the next day.

* * *

It had taken a lot of arguing, but in the end Shade had been allowed to accompany her father on the voyage. The duo were onboard the sleek Darkling ship the 'Valiant,' commanded by Stalker, who also held the title of military commander for Third Earth. Red Eye felt much more comfortable on this ship than he had when the Icewalker ship had ferried himself and Luna's crew from Third Earth not that long ago. It made sense, though, that the cold based Lunataks would have different needs than people from his own moon. Just the ambient temperature alone was enough to make him feel more comfortable. The walls here were a dark green-gray in colour, a sharp contrast to the more white walls on the Honour of the Moon, which he supposed was designed to make the inhabitants feel more at home.

Red Eye wasn't even sure what home was anymore. He'd spent so long on Third Earth, that Sky Tomb had felt more like home than the Dark Moon had these last two months. It was part of the reason he'd found himself spending so much time in the capital helping Luna. That in itself was unusual. Other than perhaps Chilla, Red Eye had had the most ties to the Lunatak moons. He'd had a large extended family, most of whom were now dead or moved on. He'd had a home, which had been converted into a store that sold books. Everything about his former life was gone and he didn't want to be reminded of them. While he wasn't a member of the Luna fan club, she was better than nothing.

He slipped on a forest green shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. Tycho was asking his key advisors to meet with him for dinner, and Red Eye had no intentions of being late. Shade wouldn't be pleased at being left behind, she'd become very clingy he'd noticed, but the invite had been very specific. He and Stalker were expected to come alone. Shade would just have to manage on her own.

* * *

On his own Psychro had limited access to the databases of the Honour of the Moon, but his sister was reasonably high ranking thanks to her relationship with Cameo, and she rather naively always used the same passwords. The trick was figuring out which one she had used for any given thing. Like the ability access personal records. Doratmus 9000, Psikaris' favourite model of engine. Predictable if one knew her.

Not that he himself was any better. Psychro's passwords were often variations of 'Psychro is a studmuffin.' The Icewalker/Psion had perused the public version of Chilla's personal file and hoped that his sister would have access to more confidential information on the woman. Psikaris held the official title of 'chief engineer for the fleet' and that often meant knowing security risks. Sure enough there was information available that he hadn't read yet.

Tug Mug had proven to be very useful in the information he'd provided. It seemed that there truly was a brief time of the year when Chilla could be counted on to be in a relatively good mood. She had the same fiery temperament that most Icewalkers had, but for a span of two or three days she was less likely to inflict pain. If he could find out why that was and use it to his advantage then he was more likely to get in her tights. He paused, wondering what the odds were that he could hack into the medical database and see pictures from her last physical. Probably not very good as computers weren't really his specialty and unauthorized access might prompt a security reaction.

There was something interesting. Chilla and Ren had held their bonding ceremony around the time Tug Mug had indicated. It was also the same day as Ren's birthday. Could it be that she wasn't really in a better mood, she was just distracted thinking of her lover? Was there a loving heart beneath that frosty exterior? But how would he be able to use a dead husband to gain progress with her? He couldn't just say "Hey, remember Ren? Wanna have sex?" without expecting to be covered in ice. No. Psychro would have to become Ren, make her think he possessed the exact same attributes. It might work.

* * *

"Why are you looking at me like that?" the little Berbil asked, setting a barrel on the ground. The Thundercats had been concerned for Zanaya and Knave's health and had graciously arranged for the Berbils to send over some food supplies, Thundrillium, and medical equipment. Over the last four months since the two had taken up residence in Sky Tomb they had shown resistence to Thundercat aid. As a token of respecting their wishes, the Berbils had been enlisted. Naturally, the robotic bears had been reluctant to do so, but had such faith in the Thundercats' motives that they eventually agreed to being transported into Dark Side with their goods. The Berbil in question was referring to the hungry looks Zanaya was giving it.

"I've been having the strangest food cravings," she said, hastily looking away. The bears were harmless in themselves, but might report back to the Thundercats and she didn't feel up to fighting them at the moment. "I saw a recipe in the Sky Tomb computer called 'Roast Berbil Stew' and the picture made it look good."

The Berbil took a step backwards, uncertainly. All Berbils had heard tales of Red Eye's specialty dish and knew to fear it. While he felt the pregnant woman wouldn't try anything, one could never be too careful. "Yes, well, we do not like being turned in to stew," he explained, wondering where his companions could be. When she turned her attention to the barrel, he ran as fast as his stocky little legs could carry him.

Knave entered shortly after he left and stared in amusement at the retreating form. "What did you say to him?" he asked, bemused.

"I talked to him about Roast Berbil Stew," Zanaya said without looking up. Food wasn't the only thing she found herself craving of late and that was more disturbing to her than anything else. She wanted companionship, someone to hold her and love her. She'd worked assignments in isolated spots for months at a time, but she'd never felt so alone as she did here. She'd actually caught herself thinking of Knave's naked body pressed up against her. His hands trailing up her thighs until... She stopped that train of thought. It was bound to be in part due to their psychic bond. It was designed to bring the couple closer together, so it was possible that that was the source of her feelings.

She glanced up and saw Knave still looking at her and caught a glint in his eye that she didn't trust. "Oh gods," she thought suddenly, "the bond works both ways. What if..?" She felt him standing closer to her now, so close she could feel the cool breath on her forehead. He tilted her head up for a long and lusty kiss. Suddenly she didn't care. She may have hated the man, but her body had needs of its own. She tore frantically at his clothes, desperate for the intimate contact of flesh against flesh and to sate the hunger within.

"Oh my!" said one of the Berbils as he walked in with another box.

* * *

To the average observer Rathja was walking alongside another Graviton, having disembarked from a transport ship to the Royal Moon. The other Graviton was unremarkable, save for his taller than average height but even this would have passed without comment. So it was that no one commented when the two entered a restaurant, nor was anyone willing to think about it when the two disappeared together into the bathroom.

As soon as the bathroom door closed a second door, hidden behind a broken toilet, admitted them. Once this second door was closed her companion's skin began to ooze off, puddling on the floor before reconstituting itself as a changeling similar to Darius, though female. Left beneath the 'skin' gasped Kaprenius, grateful to finally be in control of his own body again. Using the changeling, who called herself Thrace, to disguise his appearance and smuggle him off the moon had been a stroke of genius. It was just very unnerving to have no control over one's body.

Thrace, at least, managed to look apologetic at him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. She was a product of the Guardian program back on the Royal Moon, and had been genetically programmed to be loyal and obedient to Kaprenius. He'd forgotten about her entirely until she'd arrived on the Graviton moon with a plan to free him. She had voluntarily taken his place for the execution, hoping her unique physiology would save her and willing to sacrifice herself if it wouldn't.

It wouldn't have worked if not for the other accomplice. Rathja seemed to be mostly of Graviton background, though Kaprenius suspected that other blood was mixed in, and had grown disenchanted with the governing body of her moon when her mother's brewery had lost a lucrative contract to a rival. It had been she who had made the switch and 'offered' to scrape the body off the floor.

Procuring a ship here had been difficult and they'd been forced to lay low for the last two months until an opportunity presented itself, but now they were here, as was Aristarchus. He was seated in front of a television screen, watching the latest reports on the vaunted expedition to Third Earth and growing sickened by the mention of Luna's name. The only bright spot was that Luna's trial was garnering equal media attention. He rose swiftly as his son entered and embraced him. Kaprenius breathed a sigh of relief. He'd been uncertain what kind of reception would await him. He hadn't endeared himself to his father, spoiling his carefully laid plans on numerous occasions in his haste to gain power. He was unprepared, then, when Aristarchus slapped him hard across the face.

"I rescued you because, despite all you've done, you are my son and I love you. But if you ever fail me again I will turn you over to the Gravitons and use you as yet another example of the incompetence of the Lunar government," he said crisply.

"I won't, father, I promise," Kaprenius said, still stinging from the blow.

"Good. Then you can prove yourself to me by carrying out another little scheme of mine. You're going to pay a visit to Luna tonight. Incidentally, how fast can you run?"

* * *

Panthro and Wily Kat sat in the Thundertank at the mouth of the Forest of Mists, waiting for the Berbils to return. With instructions not to wander too far, Wily Kat was inspecting the rope that Knave had tied earlier in the day.

It seemed to Panthro like a waste of time to be extending these tokens of peace to two people who clearly wanted to be left alone. Wily Kat, of course, had protest the whole endeavour as being wasted on undeserving people. Knave had made a disparaging remark to him, implying that the boy would be eaten for dinner. Panthro was almost inclined to pass it off as mis-interpreted, but so little was known about Lunataks.

After only a few hours Panthro could see the group of six Berbils walking back towards the Thundertank unharmed, though something seemed off about them. He called Wily Kat back and approached them. "So? How did it go?"

"It went... well, Panthro. They seemed... content," one of the Berbils said, looking to his companions for confirmation. The others bobbed their heads in accord.

"That's great news. Do they need anything else?"

"We don't know. They didn't say. They were," the Berbil stopped, as though searching its databanks for the appropriate words. "They were in the process of creating more babies." Panthro's eyes widened and he heard Wily Kat gasp in astonishment. "I'm sorry, Panthro. We do not reproduce the same way you do, so our language is very limited."

It made sense to the Panther. Their only experience with sex would be through the natural wildlife in and around their home. He thought about asking how they made new Berbils, a question that had always haunted him, but decided this was not the time. "Well then," he finally said, climbing into the Thundertank's driver seat. "It's getting dark, I should get you back to the Berbil village."

* * *

The process of colonizing a new world was a complicated one. Doing so while trying to appease people from five different moons was next to impossible. The unenviable task fell on Tycho's shoulders to try and get these people working towards a common goal. Having this meeting during dinner, at least, seemed to make the Gravitons more amenable to suggestions, he mused to himself.

The choice of sites had been narrowed down to a strip of land in the western part of Dark Side. They planned to build near a cliff face with a steep drop down in to a raging river below. There was a volcano nearby and, the theory went, trenches could be made to divert any eruption around the city and drop the molten lava into the gorge. At least until more permanent arrangements could be made. The river would provide a steady water supply, and much of the site was near the forested region where they would be getting their lumber. The proximity of the Thundrainium fields would also provide adequate defence against the Thundercats.

Of course, the Icewalkers objected in principle to being so close to the volcanoes and the Psions seemed to object to things for the sake of it. He managed to convince the Icewalkers that they could inhabit the region closest to the cliff edge for now and settle elsewhere once Third Earth was under heel, and the Psions were told in no uncertain terms that a desert fortress wasn't happening for a while. The Darklings preferred being closer to the forest, but seemed to be accepting the defensible benefits of his choices. The Gravitons were too busy discussing the name of the new city to be much of a factor.

Once the location was narrowed down he broke the meeting up and assigned people various tasks to keep their interests.

* * *

Lion-O screamed in pain as he was hurled against a wall next to his companions. The Thundercats were wracked with pain, suffering from broken bones and wounded pride. The Sword of Omens lay useless, snapped in three pieces. A dull thump and a wet splat signalled the end of his lifelong companion, Snarf. Why was this happening? The Thundercats couldn't be defeated. He looked up as an enormous shadow fell over him and Luna's boot came crashing down to snuff him out.

* * *

Luna woke with a start, annoyed that her very pleasant dream had been interrupted. Amok shifted at the foot of her bed, rising to full height and staring at the door to her bedroom as it creaked open. From the pale light shining through her window she could make out the shape of a man. "You'd better have a good reason for being here," she snapped. Never one to be particularly pleasant, she was less so when wakened.

"I do. Your death," came the response.

Her would-be assassin managed to fire a shot from his pistol, a blast that Amok blocked with his body, before bolting. "Catch him, Amok!" she said, though she needn't have bothered. The Guardian was barrelling out the door in hot pursuit. She smiled smugly to herself. Amok was the greatest possession she owned. Loyal, strong, fast, resistant to most forms of attack. There was little hope that her attacker would get away with this. Only well after he was gone did it occur to her how easy the attempt had been to foil, and how far away her communicator was. She rolled across the expansive bed to get to it but found it gone and realized she was not alone. Melting out of the shadows was a man she had only read about, and knew enough to worry. "Aristarchus, this is bold of you. When Amok gets back..." she began.

He loomed menacingly closer, threatening her with his presence. "Amok won't be getting back. My men are leading him on a merry little chase. Soon he'll be safely captured onboard one of my ships and you'll never see him again. Unless..." his voice trailed off and Luna knew that whatever he wanted was something she didn't want to give.

"You won't get far. Even without Amok, I am still the queen," she replied tersely, though her voice held less conviction than she'd have liked.

"If you don't give me the power I want I could kill you myself and take it. But I think you will. You don't have many friends, and the few you had you sent away to Third Earth. You want Amok alive and I want my name cleared. I'll give you some time to think about it, but I wouldn't take long. Where he's going, Amok might not survive for long," Aristarchus smiled again and disappeared again into the shadows. Luna shuddered, feeling very alone.

* * *

Thrace ran through nearly deserted hallways, always making sure that Amok was close enough that he wouldn't give up the pursuit. In her repertoire of shapes she could assume were numerous species that could outrun the brute. Fortunately she was more intelligent than he, and he wouldn't catch on to her tricks.

She bolted into the waiting shuttle and immediately shape changed about the door to conceal herself. As Aristarchus had predicted, Amok barely slowed down in taking the stairs, feeling confident that he had her cornered. She counted to three and slipped out the door. Even before the hatch slammed shut the engines fired up, sending the shuttle and its occupant into the night sky. Kaprenius walked over and patted her on the back. "Just as we planned. And as a bonus, he gets a travel companion."

* * *

An incessant shaking of his shoulder roused Cameo into a state of consciousness. He'd been inspecting a shuttle, wondering why it was parked with the door open and lights on with no obvious signs of activity around it when he'd heard a noise behind him. Then something had clocked him on the head. He opened his eyes and found Amok looking down at him, meaty hands jostling him. "What is it?" he asked, assuming that Amok hadn't been the one to attack him.

"Kidnapped!" Amok grunted pointing out the front window. Indeed, when Cameo inspected the instruments, they did seem to be abducted. The controls were jammed, and a predetermined course plotted. It didn't look like they had much choice in their destination. Although he wasn't a skilled engineer, though, there was a chance that he could rewire the systems and undo whatever his attackers had done. If he could, then he might be able to turn the ship around, because if Amok was here then Luna was in grave danger.

* * *

"How about this one? Boron Stormhammer, champion of the Unification War," Darius said, adjusting his shape to match that of the legendary hero, a Psion who had helped unify the moons.

"Nah, I'm not in the mood for Psions tonight," Tycho sighed, removing his shirt.

"What about Graviton, I could be Tug Mug for you, I know how much *that* excites you," Darius said, grinning as his body changed again and laughing as the shirt landed on his head. "Why do you resist this? I like being able to please you." He finally reverted back to his normal form and met his ward by the foot of the bed.

"I know you do, it's just that I love you as you are. If I wanted to sleep with someone else I'd have gone looking for them," Tycho replied. It was an old fight, and it felt almost like a ritual dance; Tycho would resist for a while but he would relent in the end. They both knew it. They didn't do this often, but every so often Darius insisted on using his powers for their mutual benefit.

"You do that, I'll come looking for you," Darius replied. "What about Red Eye? He's got a nice chest on him."

"I'll tell him you said that. Fine, let's go with an Icewalker today. Anything but Nitro," Tycho chuckled, caving in quicker than usual, watching as his friend once again adjusted his shape, this time into a well toned Icewalker with long flowing white hair.

The communications system chirped, indicating an incoming message. Knowing their play would have to wait, Tycho approached. It was from Luna. Since they were so far away it was a recorded message, telling him about Amok's capture and warning him to be careful. While he was distressed to learn that his old enemy was being more aggressive, there was also very little he could do about it. He issued a response indicating his support and offering to come back if she thought it would help. That done he turned back to where Darius was sitting patiently.

"You look hot," Darius said, winking, "come, let me cool you off."

* * *

It wasn't so much that the ship had been sabotaged, Cameo would later explain, nor was it even that the ship had been programmed to take them to Plundarr. It was the fact that whoever had done all this work had set the ship for a controlled crash on the planet's surface, designed to weaken and injure Amok without killing him, while making it easier for the ambush to gain the upper hand on him.

Once he'd coaxed the information out of the computer systems, Cameo gently placed a hand on Amok's shoulder while he explained what was going to happen. What the beast didn't realize is that Cameo had taken the opportunity of flesh on flesh to copy his abilities. Like any copy they weren't as good as the original, but he hoped they would toughen his hide enough to survive the impending crash, unless he could undo the programming.

* * *

Luna glared nastily at the two deceased guards outside her living quarters as they were carted away by her security forces. Every single light was in the living area, and guards were sweeping through the palace looking for any signs of Aristarchus and his known allies. It was disconcerting to know that he had managed to get into her room so easily, especially since there was no obvious sign of how he got in or out. She assigned four guards to be stationed around her person at all times, and doubled the guards at every entrance. She had never taken kindly to assassination attempts and was determined to stop at nothing to get her revenge.

* * *

Miles away, in the basement of a quaint restaurant, Aristarchus was feeling good about how things were progressing. He would either have Luna under his control or eliminated altogether any time now. With the money and support he was providing to Eluosi, public support for her was dropping, once it got low enough he would stir the populace up to revolt against her... unless she acquiesced to his demands, returning him to power, in which case the revolution would merely be delayed.

He had considered trying to manipulate her and leave her on the throne, but a woman like that was dangerous and unpredictable. No. She was better off removed from his plate entirely. Now, if he could get Eluosi on the throne, that would be a different matter.

This phase of the operation wouldn't have been nearly so successful if not for the assistance of Nuiane, however. She possessed a rare gift among Darklings, the ability to travel through shadows, even the tiniest crack. Taking Aristarchus with her was difficult, but it was a task she thoroughly enjoyed. She had been a long term project of his, arranging for her to become a member of Nitro's harem and provide him with valuable information on one of the Ice Moon's most powerful people. He had to be careful what he asked of her, though, as she genuinely seemed to care for Nitro. Nuiane had returned to Nitro's temporary lodging immediately after dropping Aristarchus off at his hideout.

His thoughts were interrupted by Kaprenius' arrival. His son was whistling softly and bore a smug look on his face. "Well, I did my part. I got that dumb brute on to the shuttle. In a few moments he'll be safely on Plundarr where my associates will make sure he's taken care of. Oh! And as a bonus I've got the commander of the fleet, Cameo of House Mymekon, onboard too."

"That wasn't part of the plan," Aristarchus said warningly.

He waved off the concern and helped himself to a glass of wine that had been set on the table in the middle of the room. "He got in the way and there wasn't time to remove him. Besides, he won't even survive the crash. I promise," he said.

"And you weren't expected to live through your execution, need I remind you. No matter, we might be able to use this to our advantage."

* * *

"This doesn't look good," Cameo grunted, extracting himself from beneath the computer console. "Brace for impact, Amok!" The good news was that he had finally figured out how to rewire the computer to accept his commands, the bad news was that there wasn't time to do it in. They were just starting to enter the atmosphere, so he braced himself in his seat the best he could and waited.

Time seemed to crawl as the planet's surface loomed closer and closer. A swampy region came into focus and he prayed that this gods forsaken planet wouldn't be his final resting place. The sound of tree limbs cracking against the hull of the shuttle filled his ears, a wing snapped off with a grating noise, and then they hit swamp. Mud and rocks flew in every direction as the two Lunataks and everything inside were propelled forward by the sudden stop. Even with his arms bracing his head, the impact was jarring and the chair he was seated in squeezed his torso against the console.

For a brief moment his world went black, a disconcerting sensation given the circumstances. Groggily he forced the chair back and looked around to find a shelving unit had fallen on top of Amok, who was angrily pushing it off. Fortunately the door was at the rear of the shuttle and had popped open upon impact, allowing the two Lunataks to emerge and stare blearily around them.

Movement in the trees told Cameo that they were not alone. Soon they began emerging from the brush, dozens of Reptilian Mutants surrounding the crashed ship, most them bore only clubs and axes, though four that he could see had rifles out. Under normal circumstances Cameo would have surrendered immediately, but Amok was so thoroughly enraged by the situation, injuries and all, that he plowed into their midst, massive fists colliding with any Mutant he could reach. Cameo was a little more methodical in his approach, deeming the energy weapons as the greatest threat he lunged at the nearest one, his own fists landing with greater impact than normal thanks to his borrowed abilities.

Mutants, as a rule, gained their courage through superior numbers and greater weaponry, so they gleefully waded into combat, clubbing and shooting at both Lunataks whenever an opportunity presented itself. Amok's hide, and his own by extension, was tough to penetrate but with the number of blows he was taking, Cameo knew he couldn't take much more. He had decked a Reptile armed with an axe when another took him down at the knees, driving his face into the muck. He struggled vainly before finally surrendering.

One of the Mutants hauled him to his knees and turned his head to regard where a large group had managed to bind Amok's limbs together. Cameo stared horrified at his companion. Every inch of the Guardian's white skin seemed to be covered in welts, bruises, and oozing blood. "Take them to the dungeons, yes," the Reptile said, shoving Cameo back into the mud. Another Mutant rushed over and began tying him up in a similar fashion to Amok. They loaded the pair on to a hover sled and took them away.

* * *

This wasn't like Cameo at all, Psikaris thought to herself, pacing across the livingroom of their shared home. When she'd lived with her brother it wasn't uncommon for him to vanish for a night or two, but this was Cameo. He wasn't that sort of person at all. It had only been a few hours since his shift had ended, and it was possible he'd gotten caught up in something, but there was an undefinable feeling that he was in trouble. She'd had this sensation before, likely due to her Psion half, and had been proven right more often than not. But who to turn to? The local authorities would argue that he hadn't been missing long enough, and most people she knew within the city would be asleep at this hour.

There was nothing for it, then. If she wanted to learn what had happened to Cameo, she would have to do it herself. She grabbed a light jacket and slipped on her shoes to explore the city.

She checked the control tower first, where Cameo's office was located, and looked over the skeleton crew that were handling the night's affairs. The few people appeared to be busier than usual, sending small fighter crafts all over the moon. "Sorry, Psikaris, haven't seen him since his shift ended," an older Lunatak said, "we're running ourselves ragged right now. We just got word that Amok may have been abducted and taken off moon."

"Amok?" she asked, startled at the thought that anyone could abduct a creature like him. "You don't suppose they got Cameo too, do you?"

"I hope not. I'll tell the patrols to keep their eyes open, just in case," he replied, turning almost immediately back to his work. All things considered it was the best she could hope for.

* * *

Snuggled together on the floor next to the computers, Zanaya stared at the arm blue furred arm that was draped possessively around her. Why did this bond have to work that way? She cursed inwardly. There was only one answer. The gods. Lunis had warned her to expect the worst possible pregnancy, and an unsatiable lust for the worthless spawn of two hated races would certainly fit the bill. Mental link or no, she was determined that once the child was born Knave's life would be ended.

On the positive side, her parents would never know about this, seeing as she was stranded on an alien world. They, like most Psions, hated the other races, deeming themselves superior, and would find the thought of such a coupling repulsive. She had never felt quite as strongly, knowing that when dealing with the average male that sex was a powerful weapon. But she'd always been careful in the past to avoid this kind of predicament. Yet another 'blessing' from the gods no doubt.

She tried shifting away from him, but his grip was like iron so she gave up. "I've been thinking," he said suddenly. She hadn't even realized he was awake and hoped he didn't want more. "You said we're bound mentally so I can't hurt you. Can it be removed?"

Zanaya answered his question with a question of her own. "Can you remove your arm from its socket? Because I'm told that's far less painful. Even then, I've never tried it, so I can't guarantee it would work." She decided not to mention the effects the bond had on his libido. It was better to let him think he was falling for her again and keep him off his guard.

He was silent for a long time, and she wondered if he'd finally gone back to sleep, when Knave spoke again. "I've done that before, pulling arms off. It's not as hard as you think. Looks like it hurts though," he said, disconcertingly stroking her arm as he said it. She hoped she wouldn't find out.

* * *

There were mornings when Eluosi wished her arm was gone completely. This was one of them. The genetic engineers had tried some concoction on it to revitalize the tissue and she'd awakened with it tingling from shoulder to fingertips. She still could barely move it, and that with a great deal of concentration. She rose from her bed and went through her morning routine. When she had gotten dressed she went down to the livingroom to find Aristarchus waiting patiently. "Any news?" she asked, ducking into the kitchen to get some breakfast.

"None so far, though we may be closer to breaking Luna's will. Some fiends kidnapped her pet Guardian, if you can believe it. I'm going to use my resources to see if I can find him," he said, the lie sliding out so smoothly that he almost believed it himself.

"That's great! With Luna out of the way, I can take my place on the throne. Guide it to a new age of prosperity and peace," she said, eyes gazing off, envisioning such a better place.

"I pray you are successful, my dear. The moons have been at war too long, and now Luna leads us in another. We need an end to this bloodshed, an end that only your hand can create. Now, once you finish you should go to your lawyer, I've got his fee here, and urge him to use this latest incident in his case," he said.

"Yes. Of course I will."

* * *

Still visiting the Royal Moon, though scheduled to return to the Ice Moon in a day or two, Nitro was dismayed to hear of the brazen attack on Luna's person and the inadequacy of the Royal Guard. This was now the second time someone had managed to get that close to the royal person in a very short time. He'd been arriving on the moon when Aristarchus had abducted Tycho, during the latter's brief reign, almost four months ago and now this? He would suggest to Luna, at some point in the near future, that she employ Icewalkers to her guard to prevent such an occurrence from happening again.

Although she had already done so, Nitro contacted the Ice Moon himself and told the people there to be on the lookout for anything suspicious.

* * *

Psikaris had been out looking for any signs of her boyfriend all night and was growing tired, but she couldn't give up hope that he would be found safely and that there was a logical explanation for all of this. She decided to stop at home, see if he'd managed to leave a message for her there somehow.

Through her fatigue she didn't notice that the door was ajar, possibly assuming she'd forgotten to close it properly in her haste last night, and didn't notice Kaprenius sitting on the couch until she was well inside, though she couldn't recognize him thanks to the disguise he wore. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" she demanded, irritation bubbling to the surface. Uninvited guests had a tendency to change her ordinarily sunny disposition.

"Someone you want to meet," he replied evenly, trying to mimic his father's demeanor. "We have Cameo hostage, and you're going to give us what we want."

The hybrid's eyes widened. "You have Cameo? What do you want?"

Kaprenius had no way of knowing how short a rope he had. Psikaris hated being used like this, and her exhaustion only shortened her temper. "We want all your passwords. Between you and her boy toy there's a lot of juicy information we would like. Of course, we could always torture him and see what he tells us. I just hope he doesn't die on us." Kaprenius grinned, feeling confident in his position. His expression changed when she lunged at him, knocking him backwards over the couch and upending a lamp in the process.

Psikaris was spurred on by her fury, pummelling Kaprenius about the head and chest. It was an easy mistake to make, assuming that she was physically weak. Beneath her baggy clothes were powerful arms, used to lifting heavy pieces of machinery about. Kaprenius wasn't a lightweight by any stretch of the imagination, but he was unprepared for the assault, and the buffeting about the head was making it difficult to concentrate properly. His one advantage, though, was Thrace.

The changeling detached herself from disguising her master and enveloped Psikaris' face, cutting off her air supply. Though the woman clawed at the ooze covering her, she couldn't fight the need for oxygen long and slumped to the ground helplessly. Content that she would be of no further threat, Thrace reformed into her normal state and helped Kaprenius to his feet. "What now, master? Should we kill her to set an example?"

"No. Not yet, anyway. We'll leave her a note telling her that we'll be back soon and want an answer. And if she refuses, then we'll kill her."

* * *

Psychro, countless miles away, admired his reflection in the mirror. In his attempt to become more like Ren, he'd been forced to shave his head clean of hair, and he had to admit that his naked scalp looked less like a thumb than he'd feared. The style of dress was out of the question, clothes that far out of date would make it obvious what he was trying to do, but the colours were a separate issue. Every picture of the man he'd been able to find showed him in red, so he adopted the colour for his own wardrobe.

This was far more effort than he'd ever taken in his pursuit of a lovely lady, and deep down he wondered if this was 'the one' he'd been searching for all his life. It wasn't so much that he viewed women simply as sex objects, although that was occasionally his attitude, he simply found that he grew bored of them quickly and yearned for the thrill of the chase. Once a woman had opened herself up, emotionally and physically, it wasn't as exciting.

Deep down, psychologically speaking, one might also believe that his attitudes stemmed from a disastrous first relationship. He'd been young and naive. She had been from a house with far greater standing and looking for a way to irritate her father. She'd led him on for several weeks, winning his heart, and promptly laughed in his face when he'd asked for a bonding ceremony. That's when she had revealed that she'd never loved him, a wound that still stung on the rare occasion he thought of it. His first conquest after that had been motivated by revenge, blooding and impregnating the woman's younger sister.

But Psychro didn't think of her. He thought of Chilla and tried to formulate how he would overcome his reputation. Of the two hundred some-odd women going to Third Earth, he had bedded about forty of them, and gossip went around very quickly. He had no doubt that Chilla saw him as wanting one night with her so that he could gloat to his friends.

He probably would gloat, when he thought of it. A hero of Chilla's stature would be a big feather in his cap. Staying with her forever would be even bigger. Thus the efforts. Content that he was as close as he could be, Psychro went hunting.

* * *

"We didn't think of it immediately, but we think Amok may have been taken to Plundarr," a Royal Lunatak with dyed white hair said. "There was a ship that transmitted a flight plan, but said they were waiting for another passenger before departing. They didn't confirm their trajectory when they left, but we assumed that was just pilot's error."

He could tell Luna was displeased at the news. She couldn't really invade Plundarr without risking a war. As much as she despised Mutants, her army was already depleted with many going to Third Earth. A battle on a second front would only make things worse. "Do you know where on Plundarr?" she asked. Perhaps it would be possible to send a transmission requesting his return, that would be made easier if she knew which of the Mutant governments she needed to deal with. They all would have prices.

"The pilot wasn't very specific, just saying they were headed to southern Plundarr, Rubbareth continent," he replied. Even without Amok, Luna was dangerous. The guards around her looked like they would be trigger happy.

"Rubbareth. Probably the Reptillians then," she said aloud. While there were other species of Mutants in the region, the Reptillians were the dominant. She couldn't imagine many of the lesser races acting without their knowledge. "Very well, see if you can pinpoint the location more precisely. I don't care how you do it, just do it."

* * *

Surrounded by the best available Psions, Mystan led the group in a concerted effort to scan the minds on the adjacent ships. A gentle touch was required, it wouldn't do for the wrong person to pick up on their efforts, so Lura hadn't been invited to actively participate. The collective mind swept over the flagship first. This was one of the reasons why any wealthy Royal Lunatak had a Guardian. Most of the creatures were immune to psionics and many could detect them being used on their masters. Sadly, the Psion empire had long learned which Guardians could and could not do this and avoided them accordingly. Tycho was one who didn't have such a protector. Darius was difficult to read telepathically, but it was possible. Both, however, were asleep and dreaming of things that none present really wanted to explore.

There was plenty of information to gather, though. Seeds of distrust from moon to moon were prominent in the minds of almost everyone and dark secrets lay beneath the surface. This one wanted another one dead. That one was sleeping with someone behind their partner's back. Another was grieving over the loss of his parents and hoped that he would die on Third Earth so he could be with them again.

They drifted silently over the other ships, skimming the thoughts of the key people onboard, learning all they could before withdrawing. "I saw plenty there that we can exploit if the need arises. Well done," Mystan said.

* * *

"That should teach them," the spirit whispered in her head. Shade was in the process of consuming a small bowl of Edible Darkness when the spirit within spoke. "Those Psions are almost as treacherous as the Icewalkers. They were in your head." Shade was shocked. They would dare to try something like that? They might as well have instigated a war, with an act like that. Her anger was checked as she recalled what the spirit had said.

"What do you mean?" she asked aloud. Red Eye was in the other room reading a book, so she had to keep her voice down.

"I was just going to send false thoughts, but I decided on something more delicious. I turned their mental pathway into a two-way street. I learned a great deal about our Psion friends, and I intend to use it for our benefit."

* * *

When she had first received the message, Luna had been extremely angry. Cameo was one of the few people on the moons that she had felt she could trust. The man had even saved her from harm on at least two occasions. So now that he too had gone missing and was being held for ransom made her furious. Psikaris had the unenviable task of trying to calm the pint sized queen, though she was inwardly equally enraged. Now was not the time to let it consume her. Now was time to plot revenge and figure out how they would retrieve their two friends, assuming they were being held by the same person.

"Our enemies seem to feel they can come and go as they please," Luna said, finally allowing herself to calm somewhat. "Which may work to our advantage. They may become sloppy, think themselves safe. A shape changer complicates things, but there are ways to trap them as well."

"They'll probably come here again tonight," Psikaris said. She looked around warily, trying to determine if there was some chance that the changeling was now a piece of furniture.

"That's even better. With me they will expect heavy security, but with you they might not. I think some hidden security here might play in our favour," Luna chuckled as she began to formulate a plan.

* * *

As it seemed to happen whenever he had something weighing on his mind, Knave found himself in Chilla's old bedroom in Sky Tomb. He found the atmosphere comforting, somehow. Though she'd only lived there a year or so, it had been arranged to suit the tastes of an Icewalker warrior, with pale blue furnishings and a temperature control set low.

The irony, of course, was that Chilla would not find Knave's presence in her room to be comforting at all. She'd looked at him with the kind of look that told him he was the lowest form of life. He couldn't really blame her. Icewalkers were raised to believe in the superiority of their own blood, tainting it with the blood of others, especially another race altogether, was almost blasphemous. These lessons had been drilled into his head so much that he believed it himself, had tried to cleanse his blood and rid himself of the Thunderian half, a trick he'd yet to learn.

It made him wonder about his father. Surely he had been raised with the same values, and yet he kept company with women of many races. Was it some sort of rebellious nature that caused him to lean in that direction, perhaps? Were there other bastard hybrids running about that Knave didn't know about? Certainly his three brothers had all appeared to be purebred Icewalkers.

He chuckled dryly. He always thought of his father when he was trying to avoid deeper thoughts. His father produced easily reached anger, there was no love for the man just anger, fear, and a touch of respect. Such a topic of thought was easy and didn't concern him. He was trying to avoid the inevitable thought of Zanaya.

He hated her. She'd lied to him. She'd used and manipulated him. She'd tried to kill him. And yet he loved her. He wanted, on some level, to protect the mother of his child and craved the feel of her body moving intimately against his own. It didn't make any sense. How could he love and hate her so much? How could he want to make love to her one moment and kill her the next? Zanaya said the mental bond between them would keep him from killing her, probably until the baby was born, but what then? Could he actually carry out what the rational part of his mind wanted or would he allow the emotional part to rule?

That vile stain of Cheetah blood running through him only made him weak. He knew what had to be done but really didn't want to do it. His halves were at war and he hated it. Is this why his father had allowed him to live? Most Icewalkers would sooner have killed the child than raised it. Could it be his father actually loved him? This train of thought upset him even more. His father could not become a sympathetic figure to him. Ever.

He had to break this line of thinking, so Knave approached the stack of boxes in the centre of the room and picked up the top most box. Chilla had finished packing her meagre possessions and, had the flight not been so hasty, she would have taken these boxes with her. A spare cloak. A pair of blood spattered boots. A book of Bulkin history. As he shifted the items around, a slip of paper, carefully folded and protected from the elements by a strip of animal hide, fell from one of the boots. Carefully unfolding it Knave was surprised to see a picture of Chilla, clothes tattered and stained red with blood, standing triumphantly over a helpless man. It was hand drawn, with 'Ren' signed at the bottom. The name was familiar. Nitro had rarely spoken of his childhood, but when he did, Ren's name was spoken with reverence. So, grandfather Ren had drawn this for Chilla. It seemed out of place, and made him wonder about the care Chilla had taken.

* * *

To an onlooker, one would think that Chilla had lost the fight in the arena. She walked with anger into the locker room and hurled her cape into a corner and thrust her knife into the bench. The locker room was really just a wider space at the end of the tunnel that led into the arena's battle area, a wooden door had been erected to grant the gladiators a measure of privacy after their battles. There was a row of benches and a few hooks set into rock wall. A steam room and shower were in an adjoining room.

She glared as the arena door opened and Ren entered, drying himself with a towel. This had only been their second contest and she had narrowly won this round after a sound drubbing the first time out. "How dare you," she hissed, vapour drifting in the air as she spoke. "I'm not some child that needs to be coddled. I'm a warrior. No one makes a fool of me like that."

Ren had the audacity to look momentarily confused and then began laughing. "Are you suggesting I let you win?" he asked.

"I am. You're much better than me and everyone knows it. You threw that fight. Why? Because my House is ranked higher than yours? Because you felt sorry for me?" She grabbed him and thrust him against the wall, eyes narrowing and boring holes in his skull. He calmly grabbed her hands and forced them away from his person.

"Do I need me to demonstrate that I'm better?" he asked, voice dropping low and threatening. She stepped back, but didn't release her gaze. "Good. There's a brain behind that anger. You're right, I am your better. But every warrior can be beaten, every warrior has good and bad days. You? You got lucky. I twisted my ankle and you took advantage of the opening. Good on you. I've been watching you and you're good, with the right training you might be one of the best. I can make you the best, if you want."

Chilla regarded him skeptically, if somewhat flattered that an excellent fighter like him would take an interest in her. "And what do you get out of it?"

"What else? Honour and prestige. My family is ranked low, but if I can transform you into the best fighter the moon has ever known, I might be able to pull my stock higher. I could become a master trainer, with students from all Houses. And I'd be serving the empire in training recruits for battle," he replied, walking over to a bench. She noticed now that there was a subtle limp in his step, though he hid it well.

"I'm not sure, what if..." she began before he cut her off abruptly.

"You only get this one chance. Take it or leave it. I can find others who will accept my offer. And I will smile as each one manages to beat you. You're a raw piece of steel, untempered, unshaped. There's a fine blade there, but it needs to be drawn out. Without me, you'll just be a worthless lump of metal. Forget it, you're wasting my time." He walked to the shower and she followed without thinking.

"Wait," she said. "I'll do it."

* * *

She couldn't have asked for a better teacher, Chilla thought as she sat again in the mess hall of the Honour of the Moon. She was eating alone, having made it obvious that she desired it so. In the end, he had gained so much more than honour and prestige, he'd gained her heart and together they'd brought their house to great power. He'd trained many of the army in hand to hand combat, and his students generally outperformed anyone else. He demanded a lot, but he was patient and rewarded excellence. The first time she'd beaten him cleanly he'd rewarded her with his body. He'd sensed the passion brewing between them long before she did, and her cries of ecstasy that afternoon had reverberated through the empty arena. Within days they'd had their official binding ceremony.

For a moment she thought she was still re-living the past. A man who bore a striking resemblance to her Ren was fast approaching her table. It only took a moment for the excitement to be replaced by disappointment and resentment. It looked like Ren, but only at a distance.

Psychro strode with purpose to her table and sat across from her, ignoring the look she was giving him. "What do you think? Thought I'd try out a new look for you," he said. The charm was there but it was falling on deaf ears.

"I think you're defiling the memory of Ren, and doing it on purpose. I demand you meet me in combat. Today. I'll make the arrangements, you just make sure you're here," she hissed, storming away.

He had wanted his hands on her, but this wasn't quite the way he'd had in mind. There was legal procedure for combat between two Icewalkers, ranging from friendly competitions to fights to the death. Psychro worried that what Chilla had in mind would be closer to the latter.

* * *

Cameo was miserable. The Reptilian Mutants weren't gentle in their handling of their prisoners, beating them to keep them weak and submissive and scarcely providing them with any nourishment. The prison cells were set deep into the ground, with about three feet of murky water for carpeting. Two large beds were bracketed into the walls just above the surface, forcing Cameo and Amok to stay where they were. Food was a loaf of bread that had been tossed into the water, and he'd had to wrestle with some kind of eel to get it. All in all it wasn't among his favourite places to be.

The water also made escaping difficult. Wading through the liquid to get to the door would slow down any rush to be free, and the guards outside appeared to be heavily armed. Not that escape was much of an option, given their condition. Whoever was holding them clearly wanted them alive but wasn't picky on how barely they fit into that category. Amok was awake, but stared around him blearily, causing Cameo to wonder if the food was being drugged. "Don't worry, big guy, we'll get out of here and back to Luna."

"Luna?" Amok asked, eyes focussing briefly on Cameo before glazing back over. That was a good sign, anyway. There was some life in the Guardian. If Cameo could get the two of them out of here and to safety, there was a chance that Amok would return to full strength. But that all hinged on getting out.

* * *

The minutes ticked by as Psikaris nervously moved about the room. Somehow the presence of a half dozen heavily armed security personnel in her home and many more outside wasn't comforting. This was Luna's plan, hide people in her home and hope for an attack. Psikaris felt just the opposite, in a way; she hoped for no attacks at all. Being ambushed in her own home had set her nerves on edge, especially since there was every chance that they would kill her next time. What if the security forces weren't enough? What if the assassin chose some other method of delivering his message.

And it wasn't just fear for her own safety that pervaded Psikaris, it was Cameo's as well. He was being held by those scoundrels and they wouldn't give him back unless she capitulated. What condition was he in? Was he even alive? She loved the man because he accepted her, flaws and all. He was warm, considerate, and very handsome. If he were there he would hold her tight and know the right words to say to ease her mind. But he wasn't. He might never be again.

She picked up a book and tried to read, but gave up after a few words. Instead she brewed some tea and settled to watch the local news.

* * *

"I said to myself, 'if I had a shape changer I would have them disguise themselves as an officer investigating Psikaris' attack,'" Luna said out loud. "And I knew the perfect way to lure Aristarchus out would be to discuss the defences of her and myself with the officers. I know you're there, Aristarchus. Lights!" Instantly the room was flood with lights. Additional fixtures had been arranged and were focussed on the walls, greatly reducing the number of shadows. They also revealed the Lunatak himself squinting near an armchair specially sized for the queen.

"Very good," he said, shielding his eyes with his hand. "You figured out how I got in here last time. And if I had used the same method this time, I'd be in trouble. That's the trouble with you Luna, I'm one step ahead of you."

"Indeed, then you've accounted for us having found the Mutant ship in orbit that's waiting to teleport you back?" Luna asked, pleased to see genuine shock flicker across his face. Mutant teleporters had been a favourite trick of her husband's, though she couldn't stand having to deal with the Mutants.

"Touché. Still, you won't detain me unless you want Amok and Cameo to die," he replied after a moment's pause. "And if you do detain me that will happen. I also happen to be carrying an explosive device that would probably kill both of us, though I'd rather not use it."

"So it seems we are at a stalemate. I warn you, you will never regain the throne, even if I were to pardon your offences."

"No? It wouldn't take much. Tycho has relinquished his claim to the throne and once Eluosi proves you unfit for reign there are no possible candidates, especially given what your medical file says. You know, I always wondered why you were so keen to regain that belt. It seems that without it you couldn't produce an heir. Probably for the best, I hardly see you as the mothering type," Aristarchus chuckled as he picked up a knickknack from her bookshelf.

"I can always name a successor," Luna pointed out. "What of the mark on your claim to the throne?"

"What mark?"

"The one involving your great grandmother. You forget how old I am, I remember my mother telling the rumour. A little fact checking proved that the rumour was probably true. Seems your great grandmother was on Plundarr at the time of conception while your great grandfather was out of the solar system entirely. Seems he was implicated in the murder of a Simian Mutant on the Royal Moon shortly after that. The rumour was he tried to blackmail your great grandparents to keep a secret. I wonder if DNA tests would reveal that your tenuous link to the royal line is broken?" Luna said. It was well worth her while to keep information on all her enemies. Her mother had taught her that lesson.

Aristarchus crushed the knickknack in his hand and slammed it back down on the bookshelf. "How dare you imply..." he said, stomping toward the bed.

Instantly a laser pistol was out from under Luna's pillow and stopped him dead in his tracks. "The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," he snarled, trying desperately to compose himself and regain control of the situation. "Fine. You win this round, but not the fight. I'm leaving now, and you're going to let me. I'm sure we can come to some kind of understanding."

"The only understanding is when you realize you can not win. But go, lick your wounds then," Luna considered shooting him anyway, but chose not to. He was a dangerous man but held the lives of two people she needed hostage. It was a shame, really. He could have been a powerful ally.

* * *

The door to the prison cell creaked open, showing three heavily muscled guards. One of them stepped forward and pointed squarely at Cameo. "You come out, yes?" he said.

The Lunatak hybrid rose and waded over to the thuggish creature. "You come in, yes?" he said as he grabbed the Reptile and pulled him into the water, punching him in the back of the skull as he did so. The other two guards moved quickly to rescue their friend, jumping into the swampy mess, clubs raised. Cameo had been thinking ahead, though, and managed to position himself between the two Mutants. When they tried to strike him they wound up belting one another instead. "Amok! Let's go!" he shouted to no effect. The Guardian stared blankly at him, weakened by whatever was in that food and his numerous injuries. Cameo let out a colourful curse, overheard at a bar one day, and walked over.

He knew Amok was strong, he just prayed that his own borrowed strength was enough to lift the heavy brute. Amok didn't resist as Cameo's hands slipped underneath him and half dragged him through the doorway of the prison cell. Logically, there had to be some sort of space capable ship nearby, something to load and transfer prisoners, he just hoped it was very nearby and poorly guarded. It was a longshot, made more probable by the lack of Mutant intelligence, but it was his only shot.

Carrying his heavy and awkwardly shaped burden, Cameo picked his directions at random, listening carefully for any signs of more guards, but always heading upwards. Behind one battered door to the left he heard the lamentations of an Avian Mutant, but otherwise this cell block seemed to be uninhabited. Slowly he tried the door at the end of the hall, dropping Amok to the floor first, and peered into the room. It was full of torture devices, all of them coated in blood of all sorts. There was a door at the other end, at the foot of a narrow staircase, and he made for this door, hoping it was a way out.

No such luck. Looking through the iron grate he saw that it led to a balcony with a set of gallows that swung the victim over the balcony, presumably so that the gathered crowd below could watch.

"Why thank you, you've saved us the trouble of dragging you here, yes?" a Reptilian voice said. Cameo sighed and turned, finding eight burly guards waiting just inside the doorway. He was feeling exhausted from carrying Amok, and knew he was beaten. He would feel even worse by the time the Mutants were done with him.

* * *

The Honour of the Moon didn't have a proper change room, being a luxury item, but Psychro managed to secure a corner of the dining hall. The tables and chairs had been moved to one side to accommodate the combatants, and a section of floor had been marked off. Psychro had been in a few of these fights before. He had some natural strength, but would certainly not count himself as a good fighter. When he thought about it, it was mostly angry brothers and fathers he'd had to do battle with, and they were easy to provoke into making mistakes.

He was in the process of wrapping tape around his wrists when Tug Mug wheeled over to him. The Graviton seemed to have taken a liking to Psychro, but the latter could tell it was more than friendly concern that brought him. "You're really going through with this?" Tug Mug asked, watching with interest.

"Absolutely. I'm not going to win Chilla's favour by being a coward. She'll probably beat me, but it might be worth it in the long run," he replied, discarding the roll of tape and picking up a water bottle.

"Good. Good. I was afraid you might back down," Tug Mug replied.

Psychro noticed a notebook sticking out of the heavier man's belt and raised an eyebrow. "Taking bets? What are my odds?"

"Well, eet's twenty-five percent een favour of you not showing up. Twenty-nine say you won't last two minutes. Forty that you don't last five minutes, and six that you last ten," Tug Mug answered, flipping out the notebook and reading off it.

"No one bet on me?" Psychro asked, more than a little stunned. He didn't think he had many supporters, but he'd expected someone to take the chance on him. Some of the ladies, for instance.

"There was one, but he thought you were fighting someone else and changed eet to Chilla when I corrected him," Tug Mug chortled. "Don't worry. I know Chilla. This ees bound to help your chances. She respects people who can match her hand to hand. I know these things... Just try to at least make eet to five minutes. Please?"

The hybrid Lunatak shook his head in disbelief. The Graviton's words weren't inspiring, but maybe he could use them as added motivation. If no one was expecting him to win, then an upset over Chilla could gain him some favour in the eyes of the crowd. Maybe Chilla would respect him more if he could beat her... Or she'd hate him more for embarrassing her. Love was complicated and, he suspected, it hurt.

* * *

An hour later the dining room was full of Icewalkers and a few guests from the other moons. Paeder sat in a place of honour along one side with a pair of other high-ranking Icewalkers and, unfortunately, Tug Mug. The latter had leered at her upon arrival and was in the process of asking how it felt to have a one time lover competing for the heart of another, and an offer to console her in his bedroom if she needed it. If he weren't an important dignitary she would have iced him and had done with it.

It felt odd doing this. The last time she'd been involved in a formal combat her captain, the late Havallance, had perished in a fight to the death against Knave. She had gained captaincy of the ship as a result of his demise, a fact that both a blessing and a curse. Chilla entered the room with little fanfare and took her stance in the middle of the floor, Psychro joined her. All that was left was for Paeder to start the fight.

"According to the laws of the Ice Moon it is allowed we may challenge one another to combat. Chilla of House Iespyk has, today, challenged Psychro of House Myntaello. They will fight unarmed until one person surrenders or until blood is drawn. Anyone interfering in this sacred tradition will be punished on the spot. If, after two hours, there is no victor, the combatants will be permitted a short break and given knives," Paeder said, her tone indicating that she didn't believe Chilla would need two hours to finish the hybrid. "Good luck warriors, and may Lunis guide you both." She stepped back and settled in her chair to watch.

* * *

He had guts, Chilla had to admit. She'd put money on him not bothering to show up, and her having to fetch him from wherever he was hiding. It was all bravado, though. He didn't really want to hurt her, and that gave her all the advantage she would need. What was it Ren had told her in that first lesson? "Find your opponent's weakness and exploit it." Psychro was vain, overconfident in his good looks getting him out of any entanglement. She knew just what to do. She circled him, and took a swing at his face. It was an easy blow for him to block, but it allowed her to test his reflexes. When he made to kick she stepped out of the way. He was far too uncertain, this would be over in no time.

Chilla moved in, grappling with Psychro, leaning in and watching his face intently. As she anticipated his eyes flicked from her face to the generous cleavage she was showing. It was only a second, but it was all she needed. Lightning fast she brought her knee up into his groin, dropping him like a sack of rocks. She jumped on him and raised a fist to smash his pretty face in. At once he surrendered. Sniffing contemptuously at him she rose and enjoyed the adulation of the crowd.

* * *

Tug Mug was horrified. Thanks to Psychro, he now had to pay a lot of money to a lot of people. It was the oldest trick in the book, though he had to concede that he would have fallen for it too.

* * *

"Queen Luna is insufferable," Aristarchus growled, safely back in his hideout. He was hopeful that Luna's people hadn't followed him, but was in the process of destroying evidence that he'd ever been there. He had other safe houses he could go to. "I'm of half a mind to kill Amok. That would teach her a lesson she wouldn't soon forget. She's too dangerous. Too smart. How can I turn that around on her?"

"Why not just blow up the palace?" Kaprenius asked. His boy was sitting on a chair with his muddy boots on the table chewing on a piece of fruit.

"Just blow up the palace? You make it sound easy. Tell you what, why don't you go do that. Rub two sticks together and maybe the place will go up. Why don't you rub two brain cells together instead and make yourself useful? Wait a minute. Maybe I'm going about this all wrong. Maybe I can't intimidate Luna. Maybe another tactic is called for." A plan was formulating in Aristarchus' keen mind. He'd suffered setbacks before, but never found it terribly productive to dwell on them. Whining wouldn't get him what he wanted, but he had an idea of what might.

* * *

There wasn't an icepack big enough, in Psychro's eyes. He sat on his assigned bunk, enduring quietly the ridicule of his companions. He'd even turned down an offer from a pretty nurse to inspect the damage. He should have taken her up on the offer. It was obvious he wasn't going to get anywhere wooing Chilla. Nothing but rejection from that woman, and he had tried every trick he knew. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Nothing, short of the most powerful telepath, would ever make her feel anything for him, and that made him sadder. A tear trickled down his cheek at the thought. He had never felt this down and out before, and he didn't like the feeling. A fleeting thought of killing himself flashed through his mind, but that probably wouldn't impress her either. He didn't get it.

* * *

Unbeknownst to him, this was the other part of Chilla's test. His persistence was indeed paying some dividends. The attention was flattering, even if his heritage and his history were drawbacks. She needed to know what kind of man he was, and see how he rebounded from this humiliating defeat. If he was the man she thought he was, he would mope and eventually give up. A man worthy of her would be back, demanding a re-match.

A man worthy of her wouldn't have fallen for that trick. Sex ruled Psychro's thoughts, a dangerous thing in a battle situation. A warrior needed to be able to focus on nothing but the fight, tapping into emotions only to fuel their strength. And if he could be that distracted under fire he was sure to be distracted at other times, confirming in her mind that fidelity was not a strong point of Psychro.

* * *

It was late dinner in the dimly lit room that was home to Stalker, captain of the Third Earth military forces. He had invited Red Eye and his daughter to join him to go over the abilities of the natives. These discussions had been going on ever since Luna had first announced this voyage, but he liked hearing it again. Dinner was a combination of a deer-like animal found on the Dark Moon stuffed with vegetables and served slathered in a milky sauce.

"The Thundercats and Mutants are the only ones we know of with space flight capabilities, though Interplanetary Control Force operates in the area too," Red Eye said, swallowing a large mouthful. He wasn't entirely sure what condition the Rat Star was, but it wouldn't surprise him if the Mutants still had it up and running. Either way, he doubted the Mutants would bother them. The Thundercats only had the one space worthy ship, the Feliner, so there was less to worry about there.

"What about Mumm-Ra?" Shade asked, interrupting his train of thought. She had been fascinated by stories of Mumm-Ra ever since he had returned from Third Earth. The demon priest was the biggest threat on the planet, so talk of him made some amount of sense.

"I don't know for sure," Red Eye replied, mulling it over. He'd certainly never heard of Mumm-Ra venturing into outer space. Perhaps it was too far from his pyramid. "I know he's resistant to many attacks, but I'm not sure about his need to breathe in space. There were so many legends about him that we read about that it's hard to distinguish fact from fiction."

"Resistant? Like what?" Stalker asked.

"He seems to be resistant to the elements, at least the cold and heat don't bother him, he can withstand most physical blows. He was buried under the Fire Rock Mountains and survived."

"Then how do we beat him? If dropping a mountain on him doesn't work..." Stalker's voice trailed off and he walked to his window, staring at the stars as they streaked by.

Red Eye tried to recall everything from their encounters with the devil priest, and the stories they'd pulled from the natives. The knowledge wasn't extensive but, after their lava incarceration, they'd made a point to try and learn more. "Rumour has it that his own reflection can drive him away, but we tried that and he seems to have adapted. I believe that the best bet is to destroy his pyramid. It is the focus of his power and where his masters, the ancient spirits of evil, live. Without them to give him power he is weakened."

"Do we know anything about these ancient spirits?" Shade asked.

"Only that there are four statues in the pyramid that they inhabit," Red Eye said.

"Great. So we break these statues, destroy the pyramid, while hoping that this wizard with no known weakness doesn't kill us all," Stalker sighed. The trio finished the meal in silence, an aura of bleakness hovering over them.

* * *

Cameo had lost track of the days that he'd been in this filthy, disease infested dungeon. At least once a day he was taken out of the cell and tortured at length in the chamber he'd found. He wasn't sure what was happening to Amok while he was gone, but the brute appeared to be even more drained when he was tossed into the filthy water. He'd managed to keep his strength up by doing some fishing when he wasn't too sore to move and had caught an eel and a pair of smaller fish. He'd tried, at first, to give the food to Amok but he seemed less responsive now.

He wondered what that meant. If they wanted either of them dead, Cameo had no illusions that they would have done so by now. Mutants weren't good at much, but mindless killing was certainly a trait they possessed. So if they were being kept alive, but not interrogated, then they were being used to collect ransom. Which meant someone was after Luna. After all, Luna was next to useless without Amok, he figured.

A group of guards opened the door, Cameo counted eight that he could see. "Your lucky day, Lunatak. You get to go home," the lead Reptile said, as his cronies moved in to cart Amok from the cell. Seeing no reason to fight yet, Cameo followed willingly.

* * *

Aboard the royal flagship, The Crown, Tycho and Darius awoke still cuddled together. They were feeling the excitement onboard the ship. Third Earth was now only a day's travel away. Soon the new city would be under construction. There was a lot to do, but it was worthwhile for the growth of the empire. "I suppose I should make sure that everyone knows their role as soon as we land," Tycho sighed, reluctant to break his lover's embrace.

"You probably should. And I should go see if there's anything to eat for breakfast," Darius replied sagely.

"Probably. But not yet. It can wait," Tycho replied. He was just too comfortable under the blankets, and quiet moments like this would be rare soon enough.

* * *

"It's your own fault," Knave muttered to himself, though he could scarcely hear the words. He was journeying through the Forest of Mists with yet another coil of rope to continue the chain of ropes he'd already assembled. He hoped it wasn't much further to the exit, because this was the last rope in Sky Tomb. The thought of asking the Thundercats for more made his skin crawl.

However, it was less the journey than the reason for the journey that had gotten him so riled. Zanaya had complained about wanting spicy foods, complaining that the diluted Icewalker genes were to blame. He wasn't sure if she was right about that, and had argued loud and long that if she wanted spicy foods she could get them herself, and yet here he was, almost through the Forest of Mists, on his way to find some spicy food. He was just nearing the end of the coil of rope, and dreading having to backtrack, when he burst out into open air. It felt wonderful and he filled his lungs with refreshing air, enjoying the feel of the pleasant breeze washing across his face. He tied the remainder of the rope to a rocky outcropping and looked around, trying to decide which way to go. Then he saw a Thundercat ship, making a beeline towards him and opted to wait for the Thunderian.

* * *

Bengali had been out on a routine scout patrol in the Thunderstrike's left pod when Lynx-O had reported activity near the Forest of Mists, and indicated that he should investigate. He was surprised to see Knave seated on a rock as he landed, but also pleasantly surprised. He'd seen the hybrid in passing once or twice, and was curious to learn more about him. He parked the pod and approached. Even from this distance he could see the tensing of muscles in Knave's stance, as though he were trying to compose himself but wanting action.

"Ho, friend! What brings you out of Dark Side?" he asked, keeping a safe distance to show that he wasn't there to fight, but also far enough away to be able to counter an offensive strike.

"I'm doing some shopping, Zanaya wants spicy food," the hybrid replied warily. Bengali knew nothing of the history between their two peoples. Snow Tiger hide had been a favoured catch among Icewalker pirates, and while this generations long feud had tapered off there was still an instinctive distrust. Knave knew a little of this history, he'd used one of these pelts as a child, when the night was especially cold. Still, since Bengali was trying to be friendly he would make an effort too.

"I know just the place. The Berbils run a taco stand not too far away from here. I'll take you there." Bengali gestured to the pod, which did indeed seem to accommodate multiple people. Knave had felt like a run, but decided that, since he didn't know the lay of the land very well, he might as well take him up on the offer.

He climbed in hesitantly, surprised that the Thundercat would leave his back so exposed to an enemy. It would be a simple matter to sink his claws deep into Bengali's throat, to tear the flesh from bone and commandeer the flight pod. He and Zanaya would have meat for a week easily... Until the Thundercats came for revenge. No. It was too soon. They weren't ready to fight all the Thundercats. Yet.

Knave was so caught up in his thoughts that Bengali had to repeat his question. "I asked what life is like on the Ice Moon. My own home back on Thundera was far to the north in the frozen wastelands. I came to the city to ply my trade as a blacksmith."

"It isn't that much different. There's more vegetation where you're from though," Bengali took his eyes off where he was going and glanced back in confusion. "Don't look so surprised. The Lunataks visited Thundera on numerous occasions. Our history books tell of many such encounters. Slave raids, food raids, attempts to expand. Our history is full of it. That's how my mother came to the Ice Moon. She was on a freighter trying to establish a trade route with Plundarr when my people attacked. Nitro led the mission and killed everyone except her. They were the lucky ones, we don't treat prisoners very well." Knave grinned, remembering how, as jailer, he would torture prisoners for days before letting them die. Lucky prisoners arrived when food supplies were running short.

"Really? How terrible. I can't imagine growing up like that," Bengali said.

"We're not that different. We're punished when we do bad. Rewarded when we do well. The punishments and rewards are higher than you Thunderians, but that's led to a very low crime rate within the Icewalker society. Why would you steal when you know that it might cost you your life?"

Bengali tried to blot out the thoughts of what would happen for a more serious crime, if death awaited a simple crime like theft. Instead he tried to draw the hybrid out on a more pleasant issue. "Tell me more about your mother. Maybe Cheetara can tell you more about your family."

"Her name was Amber," Knave's voice faltered. His father had forced him to kill her. Punishment for their trying to flee the Moon. "What's Cheetara like? She seemed friendly."

"Oh she is. She's one of the nicest people I know, very caring and considerate of others, but strict with the rest of us when she needs to be. Lion-O may be the Lord of the Thundercats, but he listens to every word she says. You should meet her some time, with your common ancestry and her personality, I'm sure you'd both like it. Ah! Here we are, do you want me to wait?" Bengali asked, lowering the pod to the ground.

"No. Thank you. I could use a good run back to Dark Side." He climbed out and walked slowly to the restaurant. When the time came to kill the Thundercats, Bengali would die a swift death.

* * *

"Please repeat," Mandora said into her headset. It was wired to allow her direct contact with the Interplanetary Control Force, of which she was an officer. They were police of the space ways, keeping the peace between planets and ensuring that basic laws were conformed to. They had been set up long ago by a group of planets and employed agents from these and several others. It was an efficient system, and they were well respected throughout the galaxy.

The human female was cruising through her sector, on her daily patrol, when she had spotted the large convoy of Lunatak ships. The Moons of Plundarr weren't in her jurisdiction, but the planet Third Earth was, and that seemed to be where the Lunataks were headed. Her immediate response, knowing full well that a single officer could not hope to slow down, let alone stop, a group of ships like that, had been to radio it in. She was not pleased with the response.

"We are aware of the Lunatak presence in your sector, evil chaser. They've put in the necessary paperwork to lay claim to the region of Third Earth known as 'Dark Side.' They intend to settle there," a masculine, if bored, voice said over her headset. "A prince Tycho sent it in last month."

"How is that possible? Surely some native species already has a claim in," Mandora said, knowing deep down that her superiors would have been very thorough on this matter.

"There are no indigenous persons in that region and, in lieu of a formalized planetary governing body, the Interplanetary Control Force is permitted to divide parcels of land where it sees fit, providing sufficient claims are made. The Lunataks rightly have pointed out that they were living in Dark Side for eighty years without any land rights being infringed upon, and the ICF has deeded them the necessary land."

"So we've given them land so they can take over the rest of the planet? There are known criminals among that group," Mandora insisted. Every instinct screamed that this situation was wrong, that the Lunataks had slipped a Psion into Control's brain trust, anything that might rectify the problem.

"That's merely speculation. We received a crew manifest from prince Tycho and, while there are people with criminal records, the ICF has decided that most of their crimes don't fall under our jurisdiction. They've also decided, given your history with a number of the Lunataks, that you are to stay clear of Third Earth unless specifically told otherwise." The voice on the other end of the head set almost sounded apologetic, and Mandora appreciated it, even if the implication was insulting.

"Fine. Can I at least warn the Thundercats?" she asked.

"Affirmative."

"Good. Mandora to Cat's Lair. Come in Thundercats..."

* * *

Less than a day away. The news had been spreading throughout the armada of ships. Alluro found that he couldn't be nearly as jubilant as the rest of the crew. He didn't need to be a telepath to know that they had visions of glorious conquest. They didn't know the truth. Mumm-Ra was a dangerous foe, capable of doing terrific damage on his own. His counterpart, Mumm-Rana, was said to be just the same. The Thundercats with that Sword of Omens that seemed to gain new abilities every week. And if the inhabitants weren't trying to kill you, the planet itself was. Alluro had seen regions like Acid Lake and The Void. None of these Lunataks really knew the dangers they were up against. Half of them would die within the first month.

He wondered whether Luna cared about that, and whether she hoped her old associates would be among those that perished. No. Before they'd left she had offered him a surface reading of her mind, to allay his fears and assure him in the confidence she had that he could do this. It had helped, a little, to quell the nagging fear. After all, she was right to have confidence. He was one of the greatest masters of the mind. But was it enough?

Alluro settled in his hammock more comfortably, staring at the back of the Psion sleeping above him. It would have to be enough, he was the only one around he could count on.

* * *

A knock at the door startled Luna. It was nearing lunch time and she had just been about to send one of her guards to fetch it. She was settled in the office just off the official throne room. For appearances she conducted audiences in there, for the real work she relied on her office. A woman entered, after a thorough security check. It was a Darkling woman she'd never seen before. "State your business," Luna said, swallowing back the anger at being interrupted.

"I come from a mutual friend," the Darkling said, her face shimmering and twisting to that of Aristarchus. It snapped back to its original appearance seconds later, before the guard in the corner could notice. Luna had, though, and understood. Aristarchus was being more cautious this time. Even so, Luna debated having the guards arrest this woman. It was obviously the same shape changer that had attacked Psikaris.

"And what does this mutual friend want?" Luna asked.

"He wishes to return to you that which is yours and to negotiate a peace," she said. "If it is your will, I can take you now."

Luna considered this. Was it a trap to capture her as well? Entirely possible. It was also entirely possible that Aristarchus truly was trying to make amends. She wasn't stupid though. She couldn't afford to take any risks that would leave the empire vulnerable. "Very well. I will go with you," she said at length, making eye contact with the guard who stood where Amok should have been. His head moved imperceptibly. A contingent of people would follow and could rescue her if need be. She picked up her riding crop, equipped with a locating device, and gestured for the Darkling woman to lead the way. She was rather startled when the woman became a brute of the same species as Amok, complete with saddle.

* * *

The spirit within Shade quivered with an unnamed excitement, knowing how close they were to Third Earth. Shade knew little of the spirit, other than it was some kind of ghost that had once lived long ago. He disliked speaking of its past, but she gathered he had some kind of connection to the planet, asking many questions, especially about Mumm-Ra. When she asked if he had ever encountered the demon priest it said no, and she believed it. She'd come to like the spirit, a kind of constant companion who treated her kindly, so she didn't press the point.

* * *

A warehouse on the outskirts of the capital. Typical. Luna was hardly surprised to see where the changeling was carrying her. It took them almost an hour to reach the hardy wooden structure, and a garage door rose at their approach. It reeked of mould, having been used at one point to store grain, and was unnaturally black as night within. Once through the door the changeling changed shape, cradling her unceremoniously in its arms and placing her on what felt like a wooden crate. Luna heard the garage door close again.

"I think we can dispense with the darkness," a voice, Aristarchus' said. At once light filled the room. Luna could see a Darkling, the spitting image of the one the changeling had appeared as, standing, drawing the last of the magical darkness into herself. The shape changer, Thrace, stood nearby in her natural state. Aristarchus stood in front of her, blocking her view of Amok and Cameo. When he stepped aside she could see that both were bound, hand and foot, and seemed to be unconscious... or dead.

"What have you done, monster?" she snapped, fearing the worst.

"They're unharmed. They've been drugged to keep them docile until I hand them over. I intend to give you the antidote," the royal Lunatak said, handing her twin vials of a strange purple liquid. "There. You see? I'm not so bad. We got off on the wrong foot, and I mean to correct that. You are obviously a wise woman and a formidable foe. I think it is in my best interests to have you on my side. So, as a token of my generosity I will return these two to you. I can even arrange for your lawsuit to go away."

"That's a good start," she replied, struggling to hop down from the crate and rushing to Amok's side. She was pleased when Aristarchus didn't try to stop her. She forced her Guardian's mouth open and tentatively poured the liquid in, dismissing the possibility that it was poisoned. "If you can do all that, I might forgive your transgressions against me personally. I admire your tenacity, I might even be able to use it. A few more gestures of good will, and I might just rescind all charges against you."

Amok was slowly beginning to stir, his beady eyes fluttering open, and widening further when he saw Luna. Gently she coaxed him to calm down, not wanting him to overexert himself so soon. "That's all I ask. I don't like running from the law and hiding, it doesn't suit a man of my position. Thank you. Come, we have work to do," he said to his associates as they all slipped out.

Luna stared at the door that Aristarchus and his allies had used, shaking her head. He might prove useful indeed.

* * *

She was back home on the Ice Moon, the network of caves that she and Ren had once called home. Chilla recognized it, somehow, as the day the two had first taken possession of these tunnels, having just been bonded in ceremony in front of their family. She glanced down at her arm, a fresh wound marring her otherwise smooth skin. A few drops of blood had been dripped on the altar of the goddess to seal the bond. Walking in a daze still, Chilla walked through her home, exploring and remembering.

The table where, only a month from now, she would lay her prized kill, a beast twice her size that resembled a bear, but had six legs and razor sharp fangs. It had taken great effort to bring it down, and had nearly cost her her life, but the pride had been worth it.

Down the hall a painting on the wall, depicting a dozen Icewalkers fending off an invading Mutant army. The main hero in the picture was Ren's uncle, who had fought in that brief skirmish. Their patrol had been ambushed by some thirty to forty Mutants of all sorts and had defeated them all. Half the patrol had been killed, no Mutants were taken captive.

She pushed open the door at the very end and saw the bedroom. The large animal hide covered bed was just as she remembered. She jumped as she felt hands on her shoulders, loving hands that caressed and soothed. She turned and saw Ren, his smile familiar, eyes twinkling with lust. Rational thought that this was merely a dream, that Ren had died long ago, vanished, replaced with yearning for this man. Bodily she pulled him to the bed, shucking her cape as she did so. Their kiss was a veritable explosion of emotions and she tore frantically at his clothes.

Ren was not immobile through her frenzy, touching her in places that, from any other man, would have meant death. She lightly singed his skin with her firey powers, breathing cool mist over the spot, causing him to moan loudly. He responded instantly by overpowering her and taking her for the first time as bonded mates. She basked in the sensation, coaxing him on. She fluttered open her eyes, wanting to see his face at the moment of rapture and was startled to find Psychro's face instead. She was so close, though, that she didn't care. So very close to that ultimate release...

* * *

Chilla sat up in bed, angrily. She'd been having the most wonderful dream and it had been ended abruptly by a knocking on her door. Determined to throttle whomever it was, she opened it and was startled to find Psychro standing there. He looked nervous and somewhat sheepish. For about half a second Chilla wanted to pull him into the room until the realization hit. Some Psions were able to manipulate dreams and Psychro was half Psion. Psychro had done so in order to trick her into sleeping with him. Instantly she leapt at him, punching at any exposed part of his body.

* * *

He'd been half-asleep at his post, going over one of the fighters, when he'd had a vague impression that now would be the time to apologize to Chilla. He'd given her space following their fight, and he should deal with it before they landed. Plan in mind he walked up to her door and knocked. What a sight, one he would remember for a long time. He'd slept with enough women to recognize the signs of arousal when he saw it. The look didn't last long, however, and he soon found himself on the defensive.

* * *

On another ship in the same convoy, a well past middle-aged Mezmir was happy with how things had gone. Most Psions dismissed his skills as useless, but Mystan knew better. A person was most vulnerable in their sleep, likely to show their true selves. But it wasn't just observing he could do. Mezmir could influence and affect dreams. And while he'd enjoyed playing the part of Ren, he'd enjoyed the results of his plotting even more.

Mystan had come to him earlier in the day, expressing concern that Chilla would be a thorn in their side and it might be to their benefit if she was otherwise distracted. Psychro's addition to the equation was an added bonus. Mezmir had been furious at the hybrid upon learning that he'd violated his daughter. Yes, this would teach him a lesson and please Mystan as well.

* * *

"Cameo! You're alive!" Psikaris said, rushing into her boyfriend's arms and trying, ineffectually, to swing him around.

"Yeah. Aristarchus let Amok and I go free. Luna didn't say why, and I chose not to press. I'm just glad to be free of that place," Cameo said. He'd been escorted home, but the guards had left as soon as he'd gone inside. As far as they could tell he was out of danger. Psikaris had been in the living room putting a small engine back together when he'd entered. He kissed her tenderly on the lips and pulled back, grateful to once again see her. He'd started wondering if he would ever see his love again.

She wrinkled her nose at him and wiped her lips. "You smell like a sewer and taste like fish," she said, though there was little hostility in her statement.

"Mutant dungeons and Mutant cooking will do that. I'll go shower, just for you," he said.

"And I'll have something edible ready when you're done. I'm just glad you're alive," she said.

"Me too."

* * *

A long black car pulled up to the Brythago house, and Eluosi climbed in. She was surprised to see that Aristarchus had brought a companion but didn't question it, he often insisted on accompanying her to the trial so perhaps this person was part of it. "You're looking well," her benefactor said, noting that she wasn't holding her arm nearly as awkwardly today.

"I am. I think they're on the right track. Once that and this business with Luna are done I'll be able to get on with my life," she said, settling back into the comfortable leather seats.

"This business with Luna is done now. I want you to withdraw your claims," he said.

For an instant she thought he was joking and started to laugh, but noted that he wasn't joining in the fun. "How can you say that? We're so close, we've got her right where we want her," she started.

"I am well aware of the situation. The queen and I, however, have made other arrangements and this trial is no longer necessary, and neither are you." He gestured to the woman beside him and she began to morph again into a gelatinous blob, engulfing Eluosi in her gooey mass. Eluosi struggled in vain for a few moments, trying to breathe, but her efforts gradually ceased. When Aristarchus was convinced that she was truly deceased he motioned again to the changeling.

Thrace slowly slid from around Eluosi corpse and settled in the seat, assuming the dead woman's shape. "You know, Aristarchus, I think you're right. I think I will withdraw my charges against Luna," she said, her voice identical to Eluosi's.

Aristarchus chuckled. "I thought you might."


	4. Chapter 4

Expansion &amp; Conquest by Jonathan Prideaux  
Chapter 4

The black pyramid on Third Earth, located deep in the heart of the desert of sinking sands, reeked of decay and was full of things best left untouched. Nestled near the centre of the onyx structure was a cauldron of gently bubbling liquid of unknown origins. Surrounding the cauldron were four hideous statues, and two stone worked paths. The first led to the exit, assuming the master of the pyramid allowed you to reach it, and the latter led to a well worn sarcophagus.

It was within the crypt that Mumm-Ra rested, re-charging his powers to once again reclaim dominion over the people of Third Earth and be rid of the Thundercats once and for all. Under any other circumstance it was unwise to disturb the ancient demon priest, but his one companion in un-life knew better. He knew that such portents as the cauldron now revealed should be made known to his master. Ma-Mutt, faithful undead hound of Mumm-Ra placed his front paws against the lid of the sarcophagus and let out an insistent bark. Gradually an eerie red glow emanated from within, as the lid slid to one side.

"This had better be important, Ma-Mutt," he growled. His latest setback had been humiliating and he needed more time to lick his proverbial wounds. The dog barked again, prancing from one foot to another, inching closer to the cauldron, urging his master to follow. Reluctantly, knowing he would get no further rest until he investigated, Mumm-Ra approached and peered into the suddenly still surface of the pool.

No longer did he see the foul liquid, but the sky above. Several ships were approaching and beginning a steady descent. "What is this? Visitors to my planet?" he said, more to himself than Ma-Mutt. He waved his hands over the surface and the scene shifted to one of the ships. "Lunataks! So, they've returned, have they? How foolish of them to do so. Wait, perhaps they can be of some use. The Thundercats don't stand a chance against such a formidable force. Yes. Once they have eliminated the Thundercats we can encase them all in lava, as I did once before. But first... Ancient spirits of evil, transform this decayed form to Mumm-Ra the everliving!"

Ma-Mutt yelped as the statues raised their arms, their magical energy transferring to Mumm-Ra, causing him to grow larger, more powerful. When the transformation was complete, he rose swiftly into the air and soared through the roof of the pyramid.

* * *

All across Third Earth people took notice of the objects in the sky. Warrior Maidens paused their hunting, Berbils looked up from their harvesting, the Mutants trembled, recognizing the markings on the ships. The Thundercats had been warned by Mandora to expect company and weren't surprised to see them.

In Sky Tomb, the two Lunataks who had taken up residence were startled to see the armada landing nearby. Knave and Zanaya, a half-breed Icewalker/Cheetah and a Psion, were in the control room watching with fascination. They'd been upset at the initial abandonment and weren't sure what kind of reception to expect. Ultimately they decided that they couldn't fight such a force, and to go greet them.

* * *

"That was a better landing than last time," Chilla muttered quietly to herself. She, Mystan, Lura, and a collection of Icewalker soldiers had been chosen to take a shuttle to Sky Tomb on the assumption that those inside were less likely to attack kin. Chilla was still feeling rattled from her experience with Psychro earlier in the day. It had taken six people to tear the two apart, and even after his pleas of innocence she wasn't entirely convinced. She'd dealt with Psions before and they would lie about the colour of the sky just to get out of trouble. Being forced to work with another one now didn't help matters, especially the knowing look he was giving her.

"Had a rough night?" he asked suddenly. "Brawling, from what I hear."

"I don't want to talk about it," Chilla snapped, as the pilot deftly landed the shuttle.

"Fair enough. Tell me about Knave then. It's strange, I thought you Icewalkers were above interspecies breeding, but then that's the point, your son was above another species. You must be so proud of your boy, bringing honour to the family and all that," Mystan said, ignoring the wide eyes of Lura. Chilla whirled around, a ball of fire forming between her hands. "Go ahead, hurt me. That would be two people you've attacked in the last few hours. I'm sure that would impress prince Tycho. If it makes you feel better, I'm told Knave may be sleeping with Zanaya. That practically makes us family." The fireball was extinguished and Chilla pointedly ignored Mystan's remarks.

The briefing on their mission indicated that Zanaya was a niece of Mystan's. After the assassin's failed attempt on Chilla's life, the Icewalker could care less if the woman lived or not. No, that wasn't wholly true. She wanted Zanaya alive long enough to show her how it was done. And Mystan had no idea how close he was to the truth; her vision had hinted at an offspring, a baby girl. The only logical explanation was that it was Knave and Zanaya's.

A startled gasp caused Chilla to snap out of her reverie to glower at Mystan. A sensation, like when one's hat has blown from their head, passed through her mind and she realized what had happened. Before anyone could react, Chilla's fist had connected with Mystan's face, knocking him to the ground. When he tried to regain his footing, he found that he was covered up to his neck in ice. "If I ever catch you rooting through my mind again you will regret it," she snapped, brushing aside the guards who moved to hold her.

Knave and Zanaya were emerging from Sky Tomb as it was, and the truth would be obvious, but it was the general principle. She, like all her kind, didn't take kindly to the telepathic abilities of the Psions. It was cheating. It was treacherous and without any honour at all. The guards that accompanied them would take her side on the matter. As she walked towards her grandson she could hear one of the men freeing Mystan from his icy prison and then all eight hurried to catch up.

"Greetings, sire Chilla," Knave said, kneeling as befitting his low rank. "I was hoping you'd come back."

"We did. Queen Luna has decided to colonize Third Earth and sent us to bring you and Sky Tomb to the new city," the woman replied, noting the swelling of Zanaya's belly.

"Chilla's correct. Does Sky Tomb have enough power to fly?" Mystan asked.

"As long as it's not far, I think there's some Thundrillium in the reserves," Zanaya answered, avoiding her uncle's eyes. They would speak later about her situation. Together, she and Knave led the way into the fortress.

* * *

As Mumm-Ra soared through the air, swallowing the miles between him and the Lunatak armada, his body gradually became transparent becoming both invisible to the naked eye and intangible, allowing him to pass through the hull of what appeared to be the flag ship. He drifted unseen through the decks, musing to himself how easy it would be to slaughter them before they realized he was there.

Crew members were scurrying about performing their mundane tasks. Most of them seemed to be of the same sub-species as Luna, though there was the occasional other breed. Mumm-Ra noticed this was especially true as he arrived on the bridge of the ship. An Icewalker male stood at attention at the rear while a pair of Royals sat at the main controls. A man who appeared to be the leader was conferring quietly with a Graviton and a strange green creature with wings. Mumm-Ra had never seen his like before and made a note to watch this one closely so he could learn its powers.

To one side were two individuals that Mumm-Ra had seen before; Alluro and Red Eye. The treacherous Lunataks dared return? He looked forward greatly to their deaths. Suddenly, the demon priest realized he was being watched. Impossible! None should be able to pierce his camouflage. And yet… A darkling woman, stooped with age, stared at him with narrowed eyes. The very sight of her caused a flash of remembrance in Mumm-Ra's skull, though it was like grasping at water, he couldn't get a firm grip on the reason he knew her. Well then, there was no need to maintain the deception. He began cackling and revealed himself to the startled Lunataks. Weapons were drawn, and the Icewalker took in a sharp breath, but the leader stayed their hands.

"You must be Mumm-Ra," he said, matter-of-factly, though the ancient one could sense the man trembling. "I am Tycho, prince of the Lunatak Empire and governor of the city of New Lunis on Third Earth."

"I am indeed Mumm-Ra. I have been called many things in my time; demon priest, ever living, ruler of all of Third Earth, destroyer of cities and taker of lives. There are none that can withstand my powers, and that includes your precious empire,"" he said, towering over the smaller man, his eyes glowing a bright red, all designed to create maximum terror.

"Except for the Thundercats." That was Alluro, adding another reason to Mumm-Ra's lengthy list of reasons he should die.

"A minor setback, Alluro. Were I not preoccupied with more trivial matters I could indeed reduce their pathetic Cat's Lair to dust and make the Thunderian race extinct."

Tycho gestured as Alluro was about to speak again and the Psion obeyed. "Most powerful Mumm-Ra, we know that you are powerful and we both fear and respect you. Indeed, we were hoping to meet you to negotiate a deal. We will take care of the Thundercats for you, and all we ask in return is to allow us to live peacefully in Dark Side. Third Earth is more than big enough to accommodate our two peoples; we would naturally be subservient to you."

Mumm-Ra disliked the man. He was too much the diplomat and politician, using his tongue to worm his way around problems. Luna, at least, would have argued longer and possibly threatened him. He also knew that as soon as the Thundercats were defeated that Tycho would turn his armies on himself. Still, it was what he had been wanting. The Lunataks would battle the Thundercats, and he would destroy the weakened victor.

"In fact, we even have a plan. We intend on going to the Thundercats and inviting them to join us for a peaceful discussion. Once we've lulled them into a false sense of security, we'll attack them," Tycho said.

The ancient demon priest chuckled. The plan would work. The Thundercats were far too good and peaceful to resist an offer like that. Peace at all costs was how they operated, and every evil person could be redeemed. Yes, the plan would doubtless work. "Very well, Lunatak. An alliance would be beneficial to both of us. You may govern Dark Side as you please, but you will always answer to me." He winked out of sight again, drifting up through the ceiling and vanishing into the night. And to ensure that they would co-operate he would watch them in the magic cauldron.

* * *

"That went better than I expected," Tycho muttered, watching the vacant space where Mumm-Ra had stood only moments before. He'd heard various reports on the monstrous being from all of Queen Luna's former crew, but none of them had quite captured the horror and power of this being. He wondered suddenly whether Mumm-Ra had even left and waved a hand through the area.

"Yes, well, I suppose you'd better assemble your expedition," Darius said, ever the practical one. "I'm going to go file a report on this for posterity." A subtle look, carrying the kind of communication possessed only by long time friends and lovers, told Tycho that the plan was still in effect. Mumm-Ra wouldn't see it coming.

* * *

The elation radiating through Shade's body was astounding. The spirit within seemed overly pleased by the confrontation with Mumm-Ra, a fact that baffled the Darkling woman. If anything, she'd have thought, the encounter would have served as a reminder of the power they were dealing with. Even odder was that she seemed to have been the only one who could see Mumm-Ra entering and leaving the ship. She'd initially chalked this up to her Darkling heritage, but even her father had been surprised to see the demon priest finally show himself. Mentally she poked the spirit.

"I know his power, I can almost taste it, and I find it lacking," the spirit said, seeming to ooze with confidence and pleasure. The sensation was almost intoxicating.

"You can defeat him?" Shade had to stop herself from asking the question aloud. If Mumm-Ra knew about her spirit friend that might be an advantage lost.

"I can do more than defeat him. Once I charge my own powers a little more," the spirit whispered, seeming to sink back into her. There would be plenty of time to mull over his words. The assorted Lunataks had been given specific job assignments, Shade would work in the kitchens doing more menial work, out of consideration to her advanced age.

* * *

Walking through the halls of the royal palace on the Royal Moon of Plundarr was nerve wracking. Cameo was a ranking person on the moons, responsible for the fleet of ships that comprised part of the army, meaning that he often found himself in this very building reporting on the activities of his forces and answering any questions Luna might have. But those were ordinary meetings with the queen, scheduled into his week. They were safe and predictable. Cameo liked it when these things were predictable, because it meant that everything was running smoothly as it should.

A late night summons from the queen, demanding his presence in her office, did not constitute 'safe' or 'predictable' in his books. If anything they set him further on edge. It wasn't that long ago that he and Amok had been kidnapped and sent to a Mutant prison cell. He'd suffered brutally at the hands of those foul smelling Mutants and he didn't care to go through that again. The door to the office opened even as he approached and Cameo watched one of his pilots go out. The man shook his head and rolled his eyes in the direction of the queen, wishing Cameo the best of luck talking sense into her. Now Cameo was afraid.

"Greetings Royal Captain of the Fleet," Luna said. She'd used his title. That couldn't possibly be a good sign. "Come. Sit. We have business to discuss."  
* * *

Unseen by anyone, a small insect swooped through a gap in the door to the outside world, racing towards the Forest of Mists.

* * *

Being a skilled telekinetic, Mystan had been assigned to help move pieces of scrap metal from one location to another. The 'Promise' was slowly being disassembled to build the foundations of the first buildings. It was long and tiring work, so he felt no guilt about taking a break in his quarters. The rest also allowed him to take care of personal business. Even though he telepathic skills weren't his strong suit, he could veritably taste the nervousness emanating from Zanaya, along with a very faint trace of hunger from her womb. Foetuses were difficult to read, having only very basic needs.

He let his niece stew a little longer, taking a long quaff of water. "You failed your mission," he finally said, flatly. "Nitro still lives. Chilla still lives. Knave still lives, and has even gotten you pregnant. Your reputation is going to suffer," he finally said, meeting her gaze.

"I know. What do the elders want me to do?" Zanaya said, to her credit accepting her failure and not making excuses.

"Redeem yourself. I won't be able to confirm this with them, but we are still working on weakening our enemies, especially the Icewalkers. Your bond won't allow you to harm Knave, but there are plenty of others you can. It wouldn't be prudent yet to kill, but watch for openings, learn any secrets you can, especially about Chilla. She's become too dangerous and has insulted me personally." Mystan glanced at his wall clock, he had another ten minutes before he needed to return to his work.

"I won't fail the elders again," Zanaya said, bowing her head.

* * *

Tycho had seen topographical maps of the region, but even still was surprised at just how wild and untamed Third Earth was. He had selected a slow moving shuttle for his small delegation to take, intentionally taking their time in wending their way to Cat's Lair. They had to give Darius enough time to get there first and explain the plan. Mumm-Ra, assuming Alluro's assertion that he'd be spying on them was right, would be watching the wrong envoy. Darius would speak to the Thundercats about their plan and hopefully convince them to help.

He'd chosen bring four others with him, delegates from each of the moons. Enough to provide him with defence if he needed it, but not so many that it would cause alarm in the Thundercats themselves.

The shuttle passed silently over the Fire Rock Mountains, a region so toxic to Thunderians merely smelled off to the Lunatak contingent. Soon enough, he thought, there would be a city nearby this very region, the perfect defence against those same Thundercats, should they decide to attack.

* * *

Armed with a cutting torch Psychro attacked a wall with vigour. This particular room had once been part of the bathrooms. Another team had already been through and disassembled the toilets to use in one of the new structures. Once the last cut had been made he stepped back and waited for a thick Graviton to blast the wall with his gravity carbine, making it easier for the two of them to transport.

This kind of work made Psychro happy, especially after the week he'd had. Attacked and beaten by Chilla twice, this was the kind of activity that allowed him to vent his frustrations without hurting anyone. And what was he so upset about? A woman? That had never bothered him before. Women had turned him down, heck he'd even been hit by them once or twice. Chilla was different. He'd finally thought he was finding someone he could love, not just make love to. If anything, this whole experience should have been liberating. She'd made her intentions crystal clear. She wasn't interested in dating him. End of story. It was time to cut his losses and find someone else. That's what he would do, redeem his masculinity in his own eyes, find some new woman to seduce.

The Graviton across from him, holding the near weightless piece of metal, backed towards the door, and the two carted it outside with the rest of what had been salvaged thus far. There wasn't much yet, but they'd only been working about four hours, and the outdoor team had barely done much in the way of foundations for the new buildings. The priority was digging a spot where they would place Sky Tomb. A completed command centre and future home to the higher ranked Lunataks. Near it would be the military training grounds, barracks, launch pad and a hospital. Residential would come after that and then the other assorted buildings that make up a city.

Psychro hoped that there would be a decent bar built, one with plenty of beautiful young women. Ironically, the Graviton was thinking the same thing.

* * *

Lion-O didn't like any of Darius' plan. In fact, the deception he was being asked to take part in went against the 'truth' part of the Code of Thundera. But there were circumstances where the code could be ignored, and he suspected that this was one of them.

Darius had shown up a little more than an hour ago, speaking of the Lunataks making peace with the Thundercats and staying out of trouble, in exchange for assistance in permanently defeating Mumm-Ra. Certainly, for the greater good, destroying Mumm-Ra would be helpful, and allies could always be useful. He also knew that Mumm-Ra was doubtless spying on the Lunataks as they traversed closer in their shuttle. Pumyra had signalled from the Tower of Omens that she had seen their vehicle emerging from the Fire Rock Mountains. But a niggling voice, one that sounded suspiciously like Jaga's cautioned that the Lunataks had yet to prove themselves entirely trustworthy, and were doubtless plotting to wipe out the Thundercats once the business with Mumm-Ra was done. They wouldn't be content to stay within their borders for very long.

Once the initial conversation was over, Darius had shape changed into an insect again and gone whizzing back to Dark Side.

* * *

"Hail, Lion-O, lord of the Thundercats," Tycho said, stepping from the shuttle and walking to the drawbridge. "I am Tycho, prince of the Lunatak Empire and governor of the city of New Lunis on Third Earth. It is an honour to meet someone who is so highly spoken of."

"Ho, Tycho. I am Lion-O, and these are my friends, Panthro, Tygra, Cheetara, Wily Kit and Wily Kat," the Thunderian replied. Snarf was in the control room but doubtless monitoring things. He'd brought his entire contingent out, just in case.

"And these are my aides. Paeder, Stalker, Lura, and I believe you already know Tug Mug," Tycho gestured to each in turn. The first two had been carefully chosen as his military specialists, to analyse the visible defences of Cat's Lair, Lura had been chosen to give light mind readings and relay his commands if necessary. Tug Mug was chosen to acknowledge that the Thundercats' old enemies were indeed present. "I have come with an offer of peace. Our peoples have warred for far too long, many lives lost. Your people are near extinction and to lose such a race is saddening. Therefore, I would like to invite you and your friends to our new home tomorrow evening. We will show you a feast like you have never seen, with the finest delicacies of Lunar cuisine, and cement our new friendship."

To their credit, the Thundercats managed to appear surprised by the offer, some being better actors than others, "This is truly a surprise, prince Tycho. We would be honoured to join you," his words picked carefully to acknowledge their alliance against the demon priest.

"Excellent. I'm happy to hear it," Tycho said, smiling broadly. It was a warm and inviting smile, and Lion-O believed that it was an honest one, that Tycho was genuinely pleased to have made new friends. "Until tomorrow then."

* * *

For what he believed was the first time in his life, even the presence of his girlfriend Psikaris could not lighten Cameo's mood. He stomped from room to room, hastily throwing a few possessions into his bag. She'd listened to him vent for half an hour already about the special assignment Luna had given him, a last minute trip to Third Earth with special cargo. The plan was ridiculous. It wouldn't work. Psikaris gave up listening to the same arguments and went back to her reading, pausing only to kiss him goodbye.

* * *

The spirit within Shade pulsed, sensing, tasting the outside world. This planet was exactly what he had been looking for, and he couldn't be happier. Wicked thoughts came to it and it seeped back into Shade's consciousness. "You know, Shade, you've been enjoying all the treasures of your youth through me," he whispered. She was resting in her quarters as the evening progressed. Dinner had gone off without a hitch and she'd been able to escape early. Her aching body could only tolerate so much, and she yearned to become her young self again. But with a battle against Mumm-Ra coming she didn't want to tax the spirit on frivolous matters, especially with one of her roommates, a Darkling named Eclipse sleeping in the room. With the one starship being taken apart, the displaced inhabitants had to find spaces in the other ships. It seemed silly to have this large suite for just herself and her father.

"I have. I'd forgotten how wonderful it is to taste, to run, to do all kinds of things and not feel pain in my muscles," she said to herself.

"You have done all these things, and I have done them with you. But there is one pleasure you have ignored. The pleasures of the flesh." Shade suddenly hoped Eclipse wouldn't look in her direction with her goggles on. She would see the blood rushing to her face in embarrassment. "How long has it been?"

The spirit knew damn well how long it had been. It knew her thoughts. It knew her life. That didn't help. "Too long," she finally conceded. The thought *had* crossed her mind, but it would feel odd with the spirit watching.

"I wouldn't watch," the spirit's voice soothed her, its presence seeming to caress her body causing a slight shiver to run down her spine. "In fact I encourage it because it fits in to our plans. To harm House Iespyk and protect your father." It had her full attention now. "Psychro of House Myntaello. He is the perfect ally to use, bitter and angry against Chilla we can use him to harm her."

"Psychro? An Icewalker? Yuck," she said, catching herself before she said it aloud.

There seemed to be a chuckle that rippled through her, like a breeze through the leaves of a tree. "I live within you, remember? I know your innermost thoughts. You find him handsome. You even stared at his rear when he was getting his food. Besides, you've heard all the stories about him. If you're going to have casual sex, why not get it from the best?" Shade shook her head, amazed that the spirit was being so persistent on the subject. "I'm just in a good mood, and I want you to feel the same pleasure I feel."

"Fine. We'll do it," she sighed, moving to the door of their room. She waited until her infrared vision told her there was no one in the hall and stepped out. The change was instantaneous, wrinkles melting away and curves forming in all the right places. Enhanced in all the right places too, she noted, wrinkling her nose.

"I know his tastes," the spirit responded to the unasked question. "You'll find him in the mess hall.

* * *

Even though he didn't believe Mumm-Ra would still be watching them, Tycho had decided to hold a meeting with his council to discuss the strengths and weaknesses of the Thundercats and the tentative plan on how to defeat them. It was all very practical, and most of it useless. In truth, they'd been going over the plans for a long time, and their idea for turning a feigned attack on the Thundercats into an all out assault on Mumm-Ra's pyramid was firmly in place.

Darius had indicated, through code, that he had relayed the plan to the Thundercats and that they would readily participate. It would be a fine line between play-acting and realism if they wanted to keep Mumm-Ra in the dark.

"...and cannot swim unless he's invisible," Stalker concluded. "We're not likely to be near any water sources, but it may prove useful. The Darklings will be especially helpful in finding Tygra if he does use his invisibility."

Tycho shook his head. All this fuss and bother, and chances were high that they wouldn't be fighting the Thundercats for another few months. Still, knowing their abilities might help in using them against Mumm-Ra. Tygra's invisibility, for instance, assuming that the Thundercats were willing to take direct orders from the Lunataks.

"The Mutants also claim that he can make illusions," Tug Mug piped up. "But then, one never knows whether the Mutants are telling the truth or not. We certainly never saw it."

"No, but illusions are similar enough to invisibility that we can't discount the possibility," Stalker replied. The Darkling, feeling the subject of the Tiger was finished gradually moved on through the remaining Thundercats, concluding with Lion-O.

It was with the leader of the Thundercats that there was the most debate from Luna's original Lunataks. The main abilities were noted, but the Sword of Omens had many question marks. They had seen it perform dozens of tricks, from flight to energy blasts, from making shields to fixing things. It was rumoured to have even more abilities too. Here Tycho paid particular attention. This was a powerful artifact that, hopefully, could someday be turned into a weapon for the Lunar Empire. It couldn't be used to commit evil deeds, but that depended greatly on one's perception of good and evil.

Tycho, like most Lunataks, didn't see himself as particularly evil. He'd done things he regretted, and that others might have called evil, but they had been causes he believed in. Was it evil to kill a man? In most cases it was, but if you killed him to save others, was it noble or still evil? At the very least he figured it would be interesting to ask the sword these questions. When he figured the meeting, and general arguing, had gone on long enough he released everyone to go relax. There was plenty of work still left to do.

* * *

Shade scanned the mess hall, searching for her man. It was largely empty at this hour, most Lunataks being too exhausted to do much more than curl up in bed after all the work to bother. She felt a strange blend of emotions as she looked around, ranging from nervousness to excitement. It had been far too long since she'd even thought about sex. It wasn't quite so much that she saw herself as too old for it, but that she couldn't be bothered to find someone her own age, develop a relationship, and then move to that stage.

Psychro was at a table with a few other Lunataks, drinking. She saw an empty chair beside him, grabbed a mug of beer, and hastily approached. If she weren't trying to seduce him, the look on his face when he saw her would have made her laugh out loud. His eyes almost bulged out of his head and, she surmised, they weren't the only thing bulging. "Do you mind if I sit here?" she asked politely. The companions at the table each answered immediately and she knew that if she hadn't had her sights set on this one, that any of them would have taken her home. But she knew that Psychro was different. He was the kind of guy who liked a challenge. He could almost assuredly have any woman he wanted, so when they offered themselves to him it became too easy.

"Be my guest," Psychro replied finally, as she settled on to the chair she made sure she brushed ever so slightly against his shoulder. "We're just talking about the work we did today. Where did they assign you?"

"I was helping dig the hole for Sky Tomb," she replied, smiling warmly at him. The spirit had suggested the work locale, so she assumed it somehow knew where to say. The last thing she needed was to be caught in a lie by one of these gentlemen.

"I'm impressed. That was some hard work done down there," Psychro said. "You look like you barely broke a sweat."

"It's working," the spirit whispered. "He's imagining trying make you sweat." She was about to question it how it knew what he was thinking when she felt a hand on her thigh. Shade's eyes flicked down to the hand and looked at his eyes. She could see the lust written there.

"Yes, well, I'm tired as it is. I figured I'd have a quick drink, go for a bit of a walk and go to bed," she said, making sure that her expression indicated that her plans could change if there were better ideas.

"Which way you heading?" one of the others at the table, a heavy set Darkling asked. She felt Psychro's hand tense and couldn't resist a sidelong glance at him, with the barest hint of a smirk on her lips.

"I thought I might see what the construction area looks like in the night," she said.

"That's a dangerous area," Psychro jumped in before the Darkling could offer his protection. "Lots of holes and sharp objects in the area. Tell you what, I'll go with you. My barracks are in that general direction."

The Darkling was about to protest, but Shade saw his eyes staring at the table for a second. He shut up at once, resigned that he wasn't going to get the girl. She realized that he must have been using his infrared vision and seen what Psychro was busy doing. He was getting dangerously close to her most intimate parts, truth be told, and it was all she could do to stop from getting too excited. "I would like that," she said, "you're so kind."

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for a lady," he replied, reluctantly moving his hand away from her crotch and taking her arm instead. Slowly the two made their way out of the mess hall.

* * *

Chilla was stunned. Desperate for some rest in her assigned quarters within Sky Tomb, where most of the higher ups were being stationed, she had caught a glimpse of Psychro and some floozy sneaking beneath the landing struts. She felt outrage and jealousy, for some obscure reason. She certainly wasn't dating Psychro by any stretch of the imagination, but she'd started having second thoughts about turning him down. She'd attacked him for what she was starting to believe were unfounded reasons, and had been considering offering a date as an apology. But now? To see that he was able to cast her aside like a used handkerchief for some bimbo was just a slap in the face. She squared her shoulders and moved to her room. No, Psychro had just lost any chance he had with her.

* * *

He was impressed, and by the noises she'd been making only moments ago she was too. Psychro never had any doubts about his charm or his lovemaking skills, though they'd taken a beating with every rejection Chilla had sent his way. The Darkling woman, she'd called herself Munara Darken, had been so fantastic in every way that he was tempted to try and seek her out again in a day or two. She deserved that much for bolstering his ego a bit.

She was curled against him, a thin piece of sheet metal the only thing keeping the two of them from laying on hard, broken rock. He ran his fingers through her hair, amazed that any woman could so perfectly match his physical ideal of a woman. "That was better than the stories say," she murmured into his neck.

"I told you there was nothing I wouldn't do for a lady, even exceed my own reputation." His words were smug, but she found them charming regardless. She felt relaxed and complete. That make out session was exactly what she had needed, and it felt even better than she remembered it.

Even still, their snuggling would have to be cut short. If someone noticed they were missing after curfew, a search party might be sent looking for them. Shade knew that it would be impossible to explain who she was without alerting people to her true nature. Alternately it would be equally hard to maintain the identity of Munara, given that there was no such person. She carefully untangled herself from Psychro and dressed. He pulled her down again and planted a kiss on her lips. "I'll see you around," he whispered.

"Not likely," she thought quietly to herself. Not unless she felt the need again.

* * *

Acquiring a private bedroom was next to impossible at present, given the need to find space for a ship load of passengers, so Mystan had resigned himself to sharing his room with four others, one of whom was in the mess hall at present. Lura, naturally, was with him; as his apprentice she followed him wherever he went as necessary. Zanaya was another logical choice, as she was family. Friandis was a young pyrokinetic. He had advanced swiftly through the ranks on the basis that his skills were rare among Psions, and the council liked keeping people like him happy. Mesmir, the dream walker, was the last.

There was a knock at the door and instinctively he looked to Lura. "It's Knave," she said, concentrating her powers for half a second. "He's not angry, he's looking for Zanaya."

"Stay out of sight," Mystan said, turning to his niece. Once she'd disappeared into the bathroom Mystan opened the door, looking contemptuously at the hybrid. Zanaya's pregnancy with this wretch would be the scandal of the decade, it would cost him personally in the eyes of the council and hurt her reputation forever. The more distance they put between father and mother the better. "What do you want?" he said, levelly. His tone and posture indicated that regardless of what he wanted, Knave wasn't getting it.

"I need to see Zanaya. I was told she's staying here," Knave said. Mystan recognized the signs of tension rippling through the youth's body; like some kind of primitive animal.

"She is, and you're not."

Knave's eyes narrowed, "Why not? She's mine, and I insist on seeing her," he said, the hint of a growl low in his throat.

"She's yours? I didn't realize she was property, but then I forgot that you Icewalkers are possessive like that towards your mates. Let me say this so that even you can understand. You will never see Zanaya again. It is only out of deference to your psychic bond that I allow you to live. If you wish your state of being to continue after that..." Mystan was nearly surprised by Knave's pounce, but Lura's urgent telepathic warning gave him the time he needed to catch the hybrid in a telekinetic bubble. He cleared his throat. "As I was saying. If I see you after the child is born, I will kill you."

"Let him go, Mystan," a voice said from the hallway. Mystan saw Stalker, commander of the military on Third Earth, move into the doorway, pistol drawn. Even though the Psion priest knew he could disarm and incapacitate Stalker before the Darkling could move, he knew that there was a time and place to deal with such unruly individuals. Right now, unfortunately, the man was needed for the assault on Mumm-Ra. But if something were to happen to him during the fight, well, that would be nice. He released his hold, dropping Knave to the ground, but ready to grab him again if he tried to attack. "Come along Knave. I'll see you back to your quarters."

When they had moved far away from the doors, Mystan turned to his compatriots, who had been listening intently. "See to it that Stalker suffers an accident," he said.

* * *

Morning broke over Third Earth. In Cat's Lair, the Thundercats were beginning to stir, going about their daily routines. Tygra and Panthro were in the command centre, doing routine maintenance while keeping an eye out for trouble, Cheetara had left some minutes ago to go for a jog, believing that keeping in tiptop shape was important, the Thunderkittens were eating the breakfast that Snarf happily served them, while Lion-O was just getting out of bed, dressing in his simple blue outfit.

The Lord of the Thundercats couldn't help but feel anxious. Today might be the day that they rid Third Earth of Mumm-Ra, and that was a good thing. Almost every problem on the planet could be traced back to that demon priest, and yet taking the fight to him almost felt wrong, especially when they were relying on the Lunataks to help them. The Lunataks. Could they truly be agents of goodness? It seemed impossible given what little he knew of their species. But then he supposed there were good and bad apples within all species. The betrayal of Grune, former Thundercat turned fierce foe, came to mind. Someone who had only met Grune might assume that all Thunderians were evil. He had to give them a chance.

"Beware, Lion-O," a ghostly voice said. The faint blue glow that accompanied the voice told Lion-O that it was his mentor, Jaga, who had died during the exodus to Third Earth. "The Lunataks may well betray you, but I sense a greater evil than them at work. Something that may rival Mumm-Ra."

"Stronger than Mumm-Ra?" Lion-O asked, concerned more than he had been.

"I do not know. I just sense an evil force behind the scenes, I wish I could tell you more," Jaga said, his expression sad.

"Thank you, Jaga, we'll be careful," he said. He would tell the other Thundercats at the next opportunity. If there was another danger then they had the right to know about it.

* * *

While Tycho had the work crews continue their efforts, it was understood that they would need to conserve their strength for the upcoming battle, so the progress moved much more slowly. Tycho stood in the control room of Sky Tomb, mulling over the modifications he would make when he had a chance. This was going to be his home away from home until Luna found a replacement for him, something he hoped would not take long. He felt, rather than saw, Darius come up behind him and smiled lovingly at him. There was every possibility that one or both of them would die in this fight and they'd spent most of the night cuddled close together, trying to soak every last drop of love from the other.

Bearing the antithesis of Tycho's feelings at the moment, Chilla stormed into the control room. She was still bristling over the Psychro situation, and had been even more irked to find that Knave had been pawing through her possessions, even finding Ren's painting he'd given her on the one year anniversary of their bonding. The priceless piece of art had been left sitting out in the open where it was at risk to the elements.

Snapping her attention away from that irritating thought, she focussed on the Lunatak before her. She disliked Royals. They tended to be small and weak, useless in a fight, and only good as figureheads. Yet the gods willed them to be the leaders of her people, and honour dictated that she obey. "Reporting as ordered," she said. As they'd left the meeting he had insisted on speaking with her about the confrontation with Psychro and to discuss further disciplinary action.

"Very punctual of you. Thank you. Let me get right to it. You attacked Psychro yesterday morning without provocation. I understand your accusations of dream walking, but Psychro has yet to demonstrate this ability and I'm inclined to believe he's not hiding it. Given how difficult it was to remove you from him, and the fact that one of my security officers is in the hospital because of you, I have to punish you." Tycho locked eyes with the woman, proud that she wasn't resisting, but knowing that she was weighing him. If he didn't have her backing, the Icewalkers might well leave. "After the battle this evening you will be taken before our people and have twenty lashes administered to you, five of which will be by Psychro. We are starting a new life on this planet, and I can not be seen to play favourites with anyone. The laws of our people must be upheld and their punishments carried out regardless of race. Are there objections?"

He was challenging her, daring her to speak out. But any snide remark she wanted to make was bitten back and swallowed. "None at all," she rasped.

* * *

"You can't mean that!" Shade sputtered, shaking with anger. Her father had been getting ready for his part in the battle and had bluntly told her she wasn't going too. She needed to be there. The spirit within her told her she would be needed in the fight if the Lunataks had any hope of defeating Mumm-Ra.

"I do mean that, Shade. It's too dangerous out there..." he started before she abruptly cut him off.

"I am a Lunatak from the Moons of Plundarr. I will not sit back and be mollycoddled just because there's danger. Need I remind you that I was once one of the most feared fighters on the Dark Moon?"

For an instant Red Eye felt the room go darker, and he Shade's body seemed to change; her back straightened, her eyes shone a reddish hue and her skin appeared to be smoother as the wrinkles faded. But it must have been a trick of the light coupled with a surge of adrenaline, as Shade slumped forward. He caught her and held her tight to his chest. "I know. It's a father's prerogative to be protective of his daughter, I just love you too much. Look at you, you're weakened by that little outburst. How can you expect to take on our enemies? I love you Shade," he said, helping her sit in her chair again. He was grateful that Eclipse had left some time ago to grab some food, so that she wasn't witness to this.

"I know, father. You're right. Father's are always right, even when their daughters are older than they are," she managed a wan smile. He patted her hand gently and went to finish getting ready. "I lost you once, and I'm going to make sure I don't lose you again. I love you too much," she said quietly to herself.

* * *

The ageless devil priest shuffled forward towards the cauldron. The Thundercats were leaving Cat's Lair and the Tower of Omens, unsuspecting of the trap that awaited. He had overheard the Lunataks plotting and knew they intended to drive the Thundercats towards Mumm-Ra's pyramid and trap them between a rock and a hard place. It couldn't work better for his purposes either. Once they were successful, Mumm-Ra would trap them beneath the surface of the Desert of Sinking Sands. With his biggest threats dealt with, Mumm-Ra could turn his attention to the rest of the planet, reasserting his control over the populace. But there was one thing to take care of first.

Slowly he raised his arms. "Ancient spirits of evil," he intoned, feeling a surge of power as his masters began to feed him raw energy, bathing him in their might. "Transform this decayed form to Mumm-Ra, the ever living!" His skeletal frame gained mass, muscles bulged and his robe dissolved. Those first moments after transformation were the times he felt most alive, today more so. For today the Thundercats and the Lunataks would be no more.

* * *

Darius surveyed the dining room, making sure that everything was perfect. The decor, the lighting, the entertainment, all of it was critical to creating the right impression to the Thunderian guests that were soon to arrive. Tycho had confided, on the voyage, that there was every possibility that they could befriend the Thundercats and not have to fight them for many years. Dark Side was a wild and untamed region, surely most of their efforts would be put in to conquering what they had and worrying about the rest later. Darius wasn't sure that Luna would agree with the sentiment, but chose not to say anything. It didn't matter, Tycho knew it already.

The biggest obstacle, for both species, would be putting racial prejudices aside. It was one of the arguments Tycho had used to insist that each Thundercat would be assigned a member of his council. Old enemies would be forced to eat side by side, and hopefully gain a measure of respect. It was chancy, and they'd worked hard at the precise arrangements. Sitting the lustful Gravitons away from the Thunderian females, for example, as well as seating the Thunderkittens away from people they'd fought, as they were the most likely to find it difficult to make peace.

As there were nine Thundercats and ten council members, Darius had volunteered to be manning the flagship and act as commander until everyone else was in position. He walked over to the name plates once more. The Graviton brewer Six Sticks sat at the far left, next to Wily Kat and Wily Kit. Stalker and Mystan were next, followed by Panthro, Tygra, Tug Mug, Tycho, Lion-O, Cheetara, Chilla, Paeder, Bengali, Pumyra, Alluro, Red Eye and Lynx-O.

Keeping Paeder and Stalker at opposite ends had been another brilliant move. The two were keen strategists, and their odds of picking up some useful information against the Thundercats was increased. Seeing that everything was in order, Darius made his way out.

* * *

Lion-O had to concede that he was impressed. The Lunataks had done a lot of work since landing, much more than he would have expected. They were a warrior race, which he supposed meant there was a fair amount of discipline. There certainly didn't appear to be any slave labour, although that may have been hidden knowing they had guests coming. The Thundertank, Thunderstrike, Hovercat and Thunderclaw all came to a stop outside the biggest ship where Tycho and a small entourage was waiting.

"Welcome to our home, Lord Lion-O of the Thundercats and your friends. It is an honour to have you," Tycho said, bowing low. The other Lunataks, some more grudgingly than others, bowed their heads too.

"Thank you for you hospitality, it feels a little weird to be here and not fighting," he said sheepishly.

"Old wounds can turn into new friendships, as my father used to tell me. Come, dinner will be served soon. I've taken the liberty of arranging for some entertainment too, I hope it will be to your liking." Tycho led the way inside, the Lunataks and Thundercats following.

* * *

A trio of Psions were singing in an open area between the tables, their rich voices creating a calm atmosphere. If there was a hint of hypnosis thrown in, so much the better. The Thundercats and Lunataks each took their assigned seats and servers rushed to bring out the first course, an appetizer of Ice Moon mushrooms and served with the juice of a specially grown fruit from the Royal Moon. Dishes of all sorts followed, with each moon represented in some form, and no one left hungry.

Tycho actually found himself liking the young lord. The man spoke with confidence, but with a sense of honour and pride in his people. He rarely seemed to take credit and was open about their former battles. "Lord Lion-O," Tycho began as the feline held up a hand.

"Please. Lord Lion-O is too formal, especially at the start of a new friendship. Just call me Lion-O."

He grinned. "I've never had much use for titles either," Tycho sighed. "They're more of a burden than they're worth. I tried to do away with mine and Luna sent me here instead."

"People don't realize that power isn't as fun as they think. Too many spend all their lives trying to get as much power as they can, but it's not really living. They miss out on the important things. Friends, family, love, honour. I would give it all up to spend one more day with my friends," Lion-O tasted a piece of meat slathered in gravy. The meat was almost a dark purple and he'd been told that the Darklings hunted this beast only once a year because the population was so small. It was succulent and he marvelled at the flavour.

* * *

Elsewhere around the table Chilla was trying to ignore the obvious flirtations from Bengali towards her fellow Icewalker Paeder; she had that effect on men, and to his left Pumyra was glaring daggers. Paeder seemed to be politely refusing his advances, but such overtures reminded Chilla of her own son's activities. Cheetara, sitting next to her, likewise seemed uncomfortable. Finally the silence between them grew to the point where Cheetara felt the need to end it. "Your son," she started, paused as though choosing the right words, and continued, "do you know who he slept with?"

She did, and she hoped that Cheetara didn't know the woman. It was highly unlikely, but possible that she would know the clan. "Her name was Amber, of the Goldenrod clan," she said, watching the other woman's face for any sign of recognition. There was a faint flicker, as though a vague remembrance.

"I think I heard about that. Are there many Thunderian prisoners on the moons?"

Chilla was startled by the question and torn at what her response was. The truth was that there were some, but most prisoners they caught were killed or experimented on, few were kept as prisoners or slave labour. A sadistic side of her wanted to explain that, on the Ice Moon, Thunderian prisoners were consumed as soon as they outlived their usefulness, providing one last use in their existence. But she didn't. If an alliance was going to happen at all, Tycho would have to deal with the issue of freeing Thunderians. For now. "Of course there are, but not many," she said.

"Oh, well, that's good news. We'll have to make arrangements for freeing them," Cheetara said, thinking. She would bring it up to Lion-O after this was over.

* * *

"You'll love these," Six Sticks said as a tray came by. He reached out with plump fingers and grabbed a half dozen spheres and placed two of those on Wily Kat's plate. "On my moon we call eet 'Deep Fried Surprise'. The surprise ees that the centre ees actually lard. Eet's delicious and should put some meat on those bones of yours."

He chortled and jostled the youth in way that Wily Kat found disconcerting. A look at the man's gut and he had the feeling that Six Sticks could devour him with little effort. He took one of the spheres between index finger and thumb, the softness making his stomach lurch. Despite this, he took a bite, excess lard dribbling down his chin. Despite his fears, he had to admit that they didn't taste nearly as bad as he thought. Just eating it made him feel like he needed to go for a twenty mile jog, but even still, not bad.

"Thanks," he said, forcing himself to punch Six Sticks in the shoulder. Of all the people he had to be sitting next to, the foul smelling and boisterous Graviton was the worst. He had a sudden horrifying thought that the beads of sweat running along his ample belly weren't actually sweat, but grease. At least his twin sister seemed to be having a good time.

Stalker was regaling Wily Kit about his daughter, who was a little older than she was, and how big a troublemaker she'd been. He managed to have Wily Kit bursting with laughter as he told her about the time his daughter brought home a mud snake and tried to hide it beneath her bed, and how shrill her scream had been upon discovering that the mud snake had had a litter of fifty baby snakes.

Wily Kat turned back to realize that Six Sticks was talking about a beer recipe he'd been experimenting with. The youth's jaw dropped in revulsion when he revealed that one of his favourite blends was mixed with a few drops of blood. He claimed it gave the drink its potency, but Wily Kat had no interest in verifying.

* * *

Between the dinner courses, all manner of entertainment was produced. Singers, dancers, comedians, and acrobats. As with the food, each moon was represented in the shows. A pair of Icewalkers managed to put on a brilliant hand to hand combat set that ended when both conceded a draw. All things considered, Lion-O was impressed. He'd never given much thought to his enemies outside the battlefield, but here he was learning a great deal. The Lunataks weren't that much different to Thunderians; they had feelings, hobbies, and weren't the epitome of evil he'd been led to believe. He could almost imagine a future where the two races lived in harmony, helping each other and sharing their resources. He felt good about the future, but sobered when he remembered that there might not be a future.

All too soon the dinner ended, small talk was over, and he knew that the fight of his life was coming. They would have to act convincingly to deceive Mumm-Ra into thinking they were being herded towards his pyramid and distract him long enough for the Lunataks to deliver the crushing blow to his source of power. They'd fought Mumm-Ra before, but never had they taken the fight directly to him. This time it was all or nothing. A look at Cheetara's face revealed that she was thinking the same thing. Lives would be lost, it was unavoidable, but the greater good was at stake.

Or was it? Jaga's words gnawed at him. By being victorious, were they actually dooming themselves to an even greater evil? Were they fighting on the wrong side in this conflict? Should they be helping Mumm-Ra? He didn't know, and he didn't have an answer. All he could do was have faith in himself and his peers.

"Tycho, it's been a pleasure but we must be off. We need to get home before it gets dark," he said, as the he and the other Thundercats rose.

"I wish you a safe journey home, then," Tycho said. And Lion-O knew, by the glimmer of fright in the Lunatak's green eyes, that he felt the same way Lion-O did.

* * *

It was time. Within minutes of the Thundercats' departure, Lunataks were scurrying to their battle stations, ready to take off. Shade watched the activity from the communications position on Stalker's ship 'The Eternal Night.' Her father was on this ship, and would soon be taking a position at one of the gunner positions. She felt badly for the young woman she'd had to abduct and replace in order to be here, but her father's safety and her own greater purpose in the conflict was critical. He stepped out, along with Stalker and settled into a seat next to hers. "Hello, Nightowl," Red Eye said politely.

She was horrified. There was an established relationship between the two, but what kind? Were they friends? Colleagues? Lovers? Shade's face flushed at the thought but dismissed the notion. His greeting hadn't been that of intimacy, so probably just friends. "Sorry," she finally said, realizing that she'd let the silence draw too long. "I'm a little distracted with all this going on."

"Try not to let it bother you," he smiled reassuringly, a smile that she adored seeing, and patted her on the shoulder. Then he turned to his station and gave the weapons systems a once over to make sure they were fully functional. Shade breathed a sigh of relief and resumed her own duties.

* * *

Knave's job, as explained by Stalker, was to assist in defeating Mumm-Ra if he came onboard this ship. He was a brawler, unsuited for much more than reconnaissance or hand to hand combat, and there was a temptation to leave him behind. Mystan was vehemently opposed to the idea, given that he might try and see Zanaya again, and had grudgingly accepted the whelp on his ship. Of course, just because he was onboard didn't mean he was doing anything useful. Knave's first orders were to guard a section of hallway that was hardly used and had little of interest down it except for storage. Mystan figured it was a good use of Knave's abilities.

* * *

Even as Tycho stepped on to the bridge, Darius was ordering the ship to begin liftoff procedures. "We're ready to go on your command," the changeling said.

"Let's do it then," Tycho replied. "Attention all ships, this is Prince Tycho speaking, we attack at once. Obey all Captain Stalker's orders as though they were my own, because they are."

"Liftoff in five, four, three, two, one..." Stalker's voice crackled over the radio. All over the small area the massive warships started rising off the ground. The Eternal Night took the forward position, moving slowly at first towards the Fire Rock Mountains.

* * *

Psychro felt the ship lurch forward and knew that they were on their way. He, along with many others, were seated in the hangar bay waiting for when they would be needed. The pilots were going over their pre-flight rituals while grease monkeys like himself were awaiting the inevitable repairs that came with any combat. He highly doubted there would be much to do until after the fight was over, but anything was possible. Pilots were known to come in mid-fight for some repair work.

Despite all the hectic goings on he found his mind wandering back to Munara. She'd been as nervous and excited as a virgin, with all the skill of a pro, and it had been incredible. One part of him wanted to see her again, to feel her ample assets in his hands and her urgent kisses on his lips. But then he remembered Chilla, a woman who had hurt him physically without provocation. He'd heard her version and didn't believe a word of it, but still there was that niggling voice that wouldn't let her go. It was probably his massive ego, an ego that was unaccustomed to rejection. She probably still saw him as weak, though, a coward. Something he'd never get to disprove while sitting in here. But then, he didn't know how to fly, wasn't great at hand to hand, this was what he knew, being a mechanic was what he was good at. Well, that and sex, but she'd never let him prove that to her.

With a disgusted sigh he double checked that his tool belt was fastened properly and waited.

* * *

Driving through the Forest of Mists, Panthro felt on edge. "Do you trust the Lunataks?" he asked Cheetara, riding in the passenger seat. The Thundercubs were in the back, while Tygra and Lion-O flew the Hovercat and Thunderclaw repsectively. Lynx-O, Pumyra and Bengali were in the Thunderstrike and had emerged just before they had.

"I don't, but Lion-O is right. This is our chance to end Mumm-Ra's reign of terror. I don't like it, and I know as well as you do that this might be a trap, but I do believe that Tycho is a good person. I got a sense of honesty off of him, if that makes any sense," the woman replied, her eyes trying to pierce the thick mists. Even with the fog lamps installed, it was difficult to see more than a few feet in front of them, forcing them to drive at a snail's pace. More than once they had to back up and go around a particularly large stalactite. She wondered how the aerial vehicles were coping.

"I'll take your word for it, Cheetara. I was too busy trying to make conversation with Tug Mug. I think I learned more about food than I ever needed to know," Panthro replied.

"Yeah, well, count yourself lucky then. My Graviton talked about beer and kept trying to feed me greasy food. I think I won't be eating for a month," Wily Kat snorted.

"I'll let Snarf know he doesn't have to serve your candy fruit pie then," Cheetara chuckled nervously. She needed to sound confident and not think about how these two might be changed in the coming hours. Would they live or die? Would any of them be coming home? Probably not if the Lunataks decided to attack them. Despite what Chilla thought, Cheetara had heard tales of what Lunataks did to their prisoners, and the prospect of being eaten alive was enough to make her shiver. Panthro noticed and give a quick glance at the back. The kittens were talking quietly to each other and hadn't been paying attention to their elders. Panthro gave her hand a quick squeeze.

* * *

Onboard the 'Tug Mug's Gut' the Graviton people were the first to spot the Thundercats procession of vehicles in the distance. "Captain Stalker, we see the Thundercat sheeps," Six Sticks announced over the radio.

"Affirmative. Remember the plan, cut off all avenues of escape except for heading in the direction of the Black Pyramid," Stalker responded.

Six Sticks smiled to himself, taking a gulp from his beer. "Attack plan seven," he told his crew. The squat wide ship slipped to the left of the Thundertank and opened fire, missing by several inches. All around, the remaining Lunatak ships moved into similar positions, stinging the Thundercat vehicles. Soon the hangars opened and the small personal crafts emerged to join in the action.

* * *

"That was almost a little too close," Tygra said to himself, trying to make it appear as though he were trying to turn the Hovercat around to fight one of the small crafts that was making life miserable. The pilot was good, whoever he or she was, and the dance they were performing almost seemed real. Just when the feline was debating whether he'd have to score a hit to get them to back off, he sensed the pilot smirking at him.

"Just putting on a good show," a voice echoed inside his head. A Psion then, and one with their typical smug attitude. "Oh come now, I'm hurt," the voice chuckled, and he saw the smaller craft spin away to regroup with its fellow ships.

* * *

Lynx-O grunted, a blast of laser fire grazing the cockpit of the Thunderstrike. An Ice Lunatak ship had pulled along the right hand side of him, coming close enough that he thought he could reach out and touch it. These Lunataks were either excellent actors or lousy shots, and he wasn't sure which one he'd prefer. Much like the rest of the Thundercats, he wasn't entirely sold on the motives of the villains. They were known as marauders and mercenaries, not for their honour and trust. His fingers danced across the braille board's controls and a quick burst of energy lanced out in front of the smaller ship, forcing the pilot to perform some fancy manoeuvres in order to avoid being hit. Despite his blindness, Lynx-O was reasonably certain that he was being given a dirty look.

"Rowl! We're almost at the pyramid, Lynx-O," Bengali said needlessly from the right pod. The elder feline was already well aware of their proximity and was trying to ignore the nervous butterflies in his stomach.

"Indeed we are. Keep an eye out for Mumm-Ra, he should be appearing any moment."

* * *

Tycho's heart raced. The gap between the Thundercats and the pyramid was shrinking with every passing mile, and soon the question of whether their plan had worked would be answered. "There he is," Darius' voice came from beside him. Even he sounded nervous, though it was only Tycho's familiarity with the changeling that caused him to notice.

The Lunar prince looked at the monitor in front of him and saw the blue speck rising out the top of the pyramid, racing towards the combatants. The speck grew larger, revealing Mumm-Ra's awe-inspiring form. He hovered in mid-air some distance away and was clearly laughing at the Thundercats predicament. Bolts of lightning crashed into the ground around the Thundertank, which swerved and tried to beat a hasty retreat.

"Good," Tycho breathed, "he doesn't suspect."

"All units, maximum velocity. Hit the pyramid as hard and fast as you can," Stalker's voice said over the radio. It went unsaid that time was an enemy. That once Mumm-Ra figured out what they were doing he'd start on them, and if they weren't fast enough in destroying his home he might just destroy all of them.

* * *

Mumm-Ra was confused, watching as the massive Lunatak ships swept past him, and grew angry when he realized that they weren't just turning around. "Accursed Lunataks!" he snarled, about to launch after them. Oh, he would make them suffer dearly for trying to betray him. He would make them wish that he was encasing them in molten lava again. Their agony would be eternal. He would smash their empire here and rid the universe of the rest of them too. The word 'Lunatak' would become synonymous with 'fools' and they would serve as a warning to all other creatures.

Searing pain raced up his back, and he started to tumble to the desert floor. His hate filled eyes turned and glared at the offender who had dared to strike him while he was distracted. "Lion-O," he said, bracing as the Lord of the Thundercats sent another burst of energy from the Sword of Omens. Soon all the Thundercats were bringing their weapons to bear on him. The vehicles struck him with lasers, the Thunderkittens with gas filled pellets, causing him great discomfort. He could not be beaten, though. Not by these puny weapons. Only the sword was hurting him too badly and he could get away from that.

He grinned fiendishly. There was only one way he could think of to even the odds a little. He jumped into the air again and flew swiftly into one of the Lunatak ships.

* * *

"Where did he go?" Mystan cursed, frantically sending his mind throughout his ship, hunting for the demon priest. There were many who were better at this sort of thing and he cursed himself for having devoted quite so much time on the telekinetic studies. Most Psions, he was aware, could perform acts from each of the disciplines. With practice some could become more proficient in one, lucky ones could be masters of more than one. Mystan had concentrated on the field that had come most naturally to him. It didn't matter. Mumm-Ra would probably be headed for the bridge and he intended to be ready for him.

* * *

There came a rending sound, metal tearing from metal as though it were tissue paper. Knave stood facing the door, his senses tuned to the intruder's whereabouts. The smell of decay reached his nostrils only seconds before the door buckled, the noise assaulting his ears. Mumm-Ra took a step closer, his bulk filling the doorway, and his back stooped to avoid hitting his head on the door itself. Knave let out a fierce war cry and pounced. Mumm-Ra scowled and caught him by the throat and used his own momentum to crush him against the wall. With a wet sounding splat, Knave sank to the ground and Mumm-Ra resumed his progress.

* * *

"Evil! Evil, evil, evil, hate! Destroy, crush, evil!" a telepath began screaming, having decided to try and pierce Mumm-Ra's mind before he could reach the bridge. "Insignificant toads, destroy, kill, crush, evil!" Mystan slapped the man hard and hoped his remaining telepaths wouldn't do anything so foolish themselves.

To say that the door opened wouldn't be entirely accurate. The door was forcibly removed from the track it ran along and propelled towards the front of the ship, severing a hapless Psion's neck. Mystan's telekinetic powers flared and he grabbed the door, launching it back at Mumm-Ra. All around, his fellow Psions leapt into action, striking the devil priest with all their powers. Tongues of fire leapt from fingertips, stray objects soared through the air, while the telepaths tried to organize the combatants.

"Stall him as long you can," Mystan thought to his compatriots, Lura passing the message along. He grunted and rolled to the side as the doors were forcibly wrenched from his telekinetic grip and hurled at him. The metal clipped his feet and he went sprawling across the floor, praying that they weren't broken.

"You cannot defeat me, Lunataks!" Mumm-Ra shouted, crushing a pyrokinetic's hands with little effort and casting the woman aside. Mystan feared the brute was right, wincing as another Psion's chest burst into flames, the victim of Mumm-Ra's lightning. As the last of the able-bodied Psions fell, the demon priest walked to the controls and pointed the ship at another nearby. He forcibly engaged the thrusters and departed through a hole he made in the ceiling.

Mystan tried to get to his feet, to stop the forward momentum, but couldn't; the pain was unbearable. Desperately he reached out to the buttons telekinetically, but only succeeded in slowing their progress. The two ships collided with a bang and he was aware that they were dropping. He formed a telekinetic shield to protect himself from falling debris and waited agonizingly for the second impact.

* * *

"Evasive manoeuvres!" Stalker shouted, watching as the Psion ship turned to meet them. He knew there wasn't enough time, that they would collide no matter what they did, but he had to give the order anyway. "Brace for impact!"

The Eternal Night tilted violently sideways, rolling from the sheer impact, and started to plummet. Stalker flew from the captain's chair and he landed at the feet of Red Eye and Nightowl. From his prone position he watched as the man at the pilot station tried to regain control of the off-balance vessel.

"We're going down," the man growled. "I can't stop it." Despite his complaints, the pilot was able to guide the ship to a slightly more controlled crash. Stalker's eyes widened as a large section of bulkhead started to drop on him.

* * *

Red Eye had never felt so helpless before. Their ship hadn't even gotten to within firing range of the black pyramid before the Psion ship hit them. He'd bounced awkwardly off the controls in front of him, gashing his head open on the edge of the desk, then he was jostled and driven hard into the edge of the desk by the ship hitting the ground, and he worried that he might have broken his ribs. He glanced down and saw Stalker on the ground and was about to help him up when he saw the man's eyes widen in horror. Before he could look up to see what the captain was reacting to, he felt himself being pushed aside, almost landing on top of Stalker.

"Move," a voice said, one that he recognized.

"Shade?" he asked, wondering if the blow to the head had done more severe damage than he'd thought. He managed to turn around to see his daughter holding a large, and potentially fatal, bulkhead up. If she hadn't caught it he would have been squashed flat. He carefully stood and began dragging Stalker out, keeping his eyes fixed on Shade. How was she doing that? A woman of any age shouldn't be able to lift something that size, let alone an elderly one.

"I'll explain later. I have work to do," she replied, stepping through the front window that had been shattered by the impact of the ground. Before he could stop her, she was sprinting across the desert.

* * *

Down below, the Thundercats were feeling rather helpless. With Mumm-Ra inside the Lunatak ships, there was very little they could do. To Lion-O, it almost felt like they were betraying their new allies. He was just considering trying to fly the Thunderclaw through the hole Mumm-Ra had made when the demon priest made a new one. "Ho!" he shouted, channelling power through the sword and into Mumm-Ra's side, concentrating and trying to ignore the Lunar ship descending at an awful angle. Lives would be lost, but even more would be lost if they weren't successful here, and he couldn't let their sacrifices be in vain.

In the distance the first of the massive Lunatak ships had arrived at the great black pyramid and was beginning to open fire. That, more than the Sword of Omens, got Mumm-Ra's attention. He howled again and raced off to prevent the destruction of his source of power.

"Panthro! You and Cheetara see about rescuing anyone in those ships," he called down, "we'll try and keep Mumm-Ra busy."

* * *

From another Graviton ship, Tug Mug watched the vessel bearing the name of his proudest feature explode in a cascade of sparks. There had been fifty Gravitons on board the 'Tug Mug's Gut' and now they were all dead. He would spare the time to mourn them later. As Mumm-Ra emerged from the carnage, Tug Mug turned the massive gravity cannon onboard on the everliving, causing him to suddenly be a hundred times heavier. He dropped like a rock, sinking at least a mile beneath the shifting sands. "That one was for the Gut!" he said, grabbing a handy mug of beer and raising it in salute to his fallen comrades, a toast that was echoed by the others on the bridge.

* * *

Shade was feeling very disconcerted. The spirit had taken almost full control of her body after she'd saved Stalker and her father. It had been all she could do to offer the small hope of explanation to them before the spirit had forced her out of the ship. Now she was standing within arm's reach of the pyramid and had no idea what was in store for her.

"I'll explain later," the spirit said, almost a mockery of her words to Red Eye. She found her arms raising and saw energy crackling from her fingertips, obliterating a small section of wall. As the dust settled she felt the ground shake from Mumm-Ra hitting it and the repeated blasts coming from the ships above her head. Shade's legs moved of their own volition, stepping over rocks and entering a rough hallway that led into the heart of the pyramid.

"How do you know where you're going?" she asked, voicing the concern. She was starting to realize that there was an awful lot she didn't know about the being that was inhabiting her body.

"We don't have time for this. Just do as you're told," the spirit hissed, sounding a lot more malevolent than she'd ever heard it. Frankly she was becoming scared of it.

They travelled for what was probably only a minute or two, and soon emerged in the middle of a large open room. More dust and debris was falling from the ceiling as it took the brunt of the energy blasts. The eyes of the four statues standing in the middle of the room lit up and she was sure were looking at her. "It's time to end this." The words came from her lips but were not her own. The spirit had taken control of her voice too.

* * *

On the royal flagship, Tycho was growing dismayed. It was taking far too long to destroy what appeared to be a stone structure. The bolts of energy from the ship's weapons were barely scratching the surface, and he knew that magic must be involved. He hated magic. It made things unpredictable.

Darius cursed, something Tycho didn't think he'd ever heard the changeling do before, and he looked to see what had provoked such a reaction. Mumm-Ra was back on the surface, sending sand in every direction and looking very angry. To make matters worse, he had turned his attention to the flagship.

* * *

The Thundertank's claws carefully peeled away a section of hull, allowing Cheetara and the Thunderkittens to enter the Darkling ship. There were people strewn everywhere, all of them bearing injuries of some kind. Gingerly they began making their way through the vessel, helping those who needed it most. Some Darklings were able to stand on their own power and started to help the rescue process. Red Eye and Stalker were two of these, and Cheetara found herself experiencing a strange blend of emotions. Before the dinner, she doubted she would have shed any tears to see Red Eye dead, but he'd seemed so different there. It was entirely possible that these Lunataks were different people under Tycho's command. A kinder people. She wouldn't hold her breath on that count, but still found herself smiling to see him helping out.

On the whole, the Darklings had largely survived, and they had the badly gathered in one place. A look at the Psion ship told her she couldn't expect the same results there.

* * *

"Did you miss me?" The spirit said with Shade's voice. She found herself walking up the set of stairs and standing before the magic cauldron, at the centre of the four statues. "I have not forgotten the past, and now I will be the bearer of your destruction." Power, greater than any the spirit had ever given her before, coursed through her body, making her hair stand on end. She felt muscles rippling beneath the skin tight body suit and the world seemed to shrink around her. More accurately, she knew, was that she was growing larger.

She screamed as the power continued to build to a blinding crescendo, and the building rocked with the force.

* * *

As soon as Mumm-Ra was on the bridge, Darius launched himself at the evil one, drawing mass from the air around him and tackled him to the ground. He had to protect Tycho, nothing else mattered. His fists, turned hard as diamond, pounded on Mumm-Ra's head, having some effect but not enough. He could tell by the way Mumm-Ra's muscles were tensing that the demon priest would blast him away in short order.

But then something happened. Mumm-Ra howled in agony and raced from the ship, descending on the pyramid. It was working! Their assault on the black pyramid was weakening Mumm-Ra enough that they would be able to destroy him once and for all. "Keep firing!" he shouted over the outburst of cheers. The crew might think him a hero, but they hadn't won until they'd seen Mumm-Ra's corpse.

* * *

Circling the pyramid Lion-O discharged blast after blast of energy at the mammoth pillars outside. They were starting to show cracks in their surface and he began to feel good about himself. After all, he'd heard what had happened to Mumm-Rana when her pyramid had been damaged; she had been too weakened to do anything other than lay in her sarcophagus.

He heard Mumm-Ra's unearthly scream and continued to fire. Such a noise could only mean that they were close. He felt the sweat drip from his forehead as he drew his reserves of energy, intensifying the energy radiating from the tip of the Sword of Omens. Then, for an instant, he felt nothing.

* * *

"Lion-O!" Pumyra gasped, watching in horror as the pyramid was engulfed in light, exploding outwards and sending the Lord of the Thundercats hurtling through the air. Lynx-O tried desperately to steady the controls of the Thunderstrike as boulders from the now destroyed pyramid rained in every direction, pelting the Thunderian and Lunatak vehicles. All forces pulled back as best they could to wait out the storm. A piece of stone, the size of a fist, crashed through the supposedly unbreakable window of her pod and smacked into a finger that she hadn't been able to move in time.

* * *

Tycho stumbled into Darius at the explosion, grateful that the changeling was there to break his fall. "All ships, pull back. Keep your eyes peeled in case Mumm-Ra's not done yet," he said, grabbing a radio.

The Lunar fleet moved near where the first two ships had fallen watching restlessly for the cloud to clear. If an explosion of that magnitude hadn't defeated Mumm-Ra, then what would it take?

* * *

Panthro didn't have the luxury of waiting for Cheetara or the Thunderkittens to get back. He'd seen Lion-O and the Thunderclaw take a tremendous hit from being so close to the pyramid when it blew up, and Panthro knew that Lion-O's odds of survival were lessened by the flying pieces of rock. The Thundertank could take it, though, and he pushed the engines to the limits to rush to the aid of his leader. Lion-O had to be alive. It couldn't end this way, not so close to their triumph over evil. Large dents covered the surface of the tank, many of which would be next to impossible to repair, and some threatened to punch right through. But Panthro had never let his personal problems get in the way of protecting his friends.

As he got closer he saw that through some minor miracle, Lion-O was relatively safe. The Thunderclaw had flipped over and crashed in such a way that most of him was covered by it. Panthro positioned the tank to add further protection and waited it out.

* * *

Red Eye gasped, nearly dropping the Psion he was helping to carry. As soon as he'd heard the explosion coming from the direction of the pyramid a single thought raced through his head. Shade; was she alive? He'd seen her heading towards it, and remembered her saying something about having work to do. What did that mean? Where had she gotten that kind of strength? And then he knew, everything fell into place. She had been at ground zero when the explosion occurred.

* * *

There was nothing there but a crater, in the end. Mumm-Ra's wizened body had been found at the very edge, and the belief was that he was really dead this time. The Thundercats agreed to take it with them so that they could keep an eye on it, just in case, but there was little doubt anything would come of it.

Lion-O had roused after about an hour or so, his body aching in places he hadn't been aware could ache, and the first to greet him had been Tycho. The Lunar prince certainly had a vested interest in the feline's death, but he'd also sensed a kind of kinship in the man that he had hoped wouldn't be extinguished quite so easily.

"Did we win?" Lion-O managed to ask weakly. The others were still helping the injured and recovering the dead from the fallen ships. Tycho nodded. "Good. Third Earth deserves this era of peace." Tycho understood. His own actions had made it clear that the Lunataks intended not to cause trouble, and the greatest source of evil was gone. There were still pockets of evil, but they could be dealt with.

* * *

Standing at the crater's edge, Red Eye clutched a small black scrap of cloth in one hand. It still faintly bore the scent of his daughter, and it somehow confirmed to him that she was gone. She'd been keeping something from him, and now he would never know what it was. He would never understand what had happened.

She'd saved him. Protected him from that falling metal and he'd been unable to return the favour. The loss was crippling. He'd presumed her dead once before, when they found out how long they had been trapped in lava and he'd cried then over her. But then he'd discovered that she lived and he'd dared to dream that they would live together for a long, long time. And now he was grieving for her a second time. A second death, but one that she would have been proud of; dying to protect her people, dying with honour. He would petition Luna to allow him to recognize her feat.

A cool hand touched his shoulder, and he met Chilla's eyes. "She was the last of my family," he said, his voice betraying him, cracking as tears slid down his cheeks.

"I wish I could trade mine for yours," she replied. They'd found her grandson in a bloody heap, alive but probably wishing he were dead.

He almost managed a smile at that, knowing how little she cared about her surviving kin. "It's not just that. She was my last tie to my past life. The life before I came to Third Earth. I have nothing left."

"For what it's worth, you still have us," she said awkwardly, gesturing at where Tug Mug and Alluro were working. She wasn't good with words, but Red Eye was a friend, one of the few she was able to say she had. "We're family. We lived together for years." She turned him to face her, letting her eyes speak for her.

He pulled her tight to him, glad to have such friends. "Thank you, friend."


	5. Chapter 5

Expansion &amp; Conquest by Jonathan Prideaux  
Epilogue

Unseen by other living eyes, in a hollowed out cavern beneath where Mumm-Ra's pyramid had once been, Shade found herself flat on the ground, worn out and devoid of energy. Her clothes had been ripped to shreds by the explosion. The explosion. She could barely remember it happening. As the power erupted through her pores she'd been plunged down through the surface of the sinking sands.

"I always preferred being underground," the spirit whispered. She could feel it wafting slowly around her, it caressed her skin gently as it flowed, seemingly inspecting the cavern. Without her infrared goggles she couldn't see any of the space, so she had no idea where they were or how big a place this was.

"What are you?" she asked.

"There will be plenty of time for your questions later, Shade. Suffice to say, for now, that I am the dominant force on Third Earth. This is my world, and you will help me rid it of its infestations," the spirit said.

If she squinted she could almost make out a humanoid shape moving in front of her. It boggled her understanding that she could see it. The words sunk in. "I'm not helping you do anything. You want to take over this world, you're as evil as they said Mumm-Ra was!"

Shade recoiled as the spirit somehow struck her, she stumbled backwards and found a wall to the cavern. It felt smooth as glass to the touch and strangely warm. But she didn't notice the sensations, only the malevolence hovering in front of her. The spirit's voice became deeper and sounded more sinister to her ears. "You would be wise to mind that tongue of yours. You will be my little puppet or there will be dire consequences; I will start by hunting down those you care about. That man whose flesh you enjoyed, perhaps. Your father certainly. I can make their deaths very slow and painful, and you, an old woman, would be powerless to stop me. Once they have died I will kill you in the most excruciating way I know. And just when you think your body can take no more, I will heal you so I can start over again. You'll be my play thing for a very long time."

"You need a body though. You're powerless without me," Shade was grasping at straws, basing her opinion on what she'd learned about the entity.

"I need *a* body. Not necessarily yours. There are rodents and insects I could possess. Or I could forcibly take yours. No, Shade, I happen to like your body. I've enjoyed seeing life through it, experiencing all the pleasures that it can hold, but I don't *need* it. Join me and your father and loved ones will live long lives, you'll have your heart's desire as long as I get mine," the spirit began seductively, trails of mist touching her as intimately as Psychro had touched her. It relished the conflicting emotions, fed off the fear and passion in her rational mind and memories respectively. It drifted across her crotch, up her chest and sensually touched her neck. There it rested, slowly constricting, causing her to begin choking. "Or I can take what I want and make your life a living hell."

"Alright!" she sobbed, the tears streaming down her face. "I'll do it. I'll help you."

The spirit's hold released and drifted back. "I thought you might. Now, we have a lot of work to do before I can reclaim this planet. I might even answer some of your questions."

* * *

It was five days since the epic battle had taken place, and Tycho still could not believe the relative good fortune his people had had. Almost one hundred people had died, about a fifth of what had come to this planet. Early projections of the battle had predicted closer to half. Cynically Alluro had suggested more.

He watched, now, as his people busied themselves in building the first few buildings that would be located around Sky Tomb and felt a surge of pride. These were his people, and he had saved a great many lives. The Thundercats had even stopped by once to help out, a thank you for the assistance against Mumm-Ra. It could be a new era, he mused to himself. Who cared about Luna and her petty revenge. The Thundercats hadn't initiated any conflicts with the Lunataks, they'd only been defending themselves. He couldn't blame them. The soft padding of feet told him Darius was approaching.

"We've got company coming," the changeling said. "Scanners picked up a small Lunar shuttle entering the system."

"Small shuttle?" Tycho was confused, but tried not to let it show. Darius had enough to worry about without worrying about him.

By the time the two had left the royal bedroom and emerged from Sky Tomb, the shuttle in question was making its final descent, clearly about to land at the new city. Tycho recognized the ship, it was one of the best and certainly one of the few capable of making such a long journey in such a short time. He could only imagine being stuck in something so small for six days.

The airlock opened and he grinned widely. Cameo of House Mymekon, one of the best pilots in the fleet and what seemed to be a nice guy. Tycho walked briskly up to the man his smile fading as he noticed the other's dour expression. Cameo saluted. "Prince Tycho of the Lunar empire. Queen Luna has heard your request to be relieved of your command posting on Third Earth and has found what she deems a suitable replacement," he said.

"Oh?" Tycho asked cautiously. If Cameo seemed upset then there had to be a good reason.

He sighed lengthily. "I double checked with her orders and then suggested she seek some psychiatric help," he said bluntly. "I'm to take you back to the Royal Moon in two days, to give you time to introduce the new governor to his posting."

"No need to be quite so melodramatic," a voice said from inside the shuttle. Tycho knew the voice at once and knew that he would be having a long conversation with Luna when he got back. "Queen Luna has wisely made me Governor Aristarchus."


End file.
